Four and Six
by Montanasky4
Summary: Alternate Ending/Continuation to Allegiant.
1. Can't get no relief

**Tobias**

We make it back to the compound. There is an eeriness about the place. What was I expecting? The best I can gather is that Caleb and Tris were successful, at least. I exhale, until then I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath. Amar stops ahead of me with Christina behind. He has his gun raised. Neither of us bothered to tell him, partly because we weren't sure how he'd react and the other being that although we knew the serum wasn't released in the city, Christina and I had no way of knowing how it played out here. I don't doubt Amar knows something is wrong, even from inside the city, and I bet he knows I'm involved, although I don't make it known. I continue to play as clueless.

Christina must be playing the part as well when she says, "What happened here? Where is everybody?" Sometimes I'm still surprised that her former inner Candor allows herself to lie.

Amar doesn't turn back to look at her. Instead he keeps his eyes trained ahead. "I don't know but I intend to find out." He continues forward cautiously, as his Dauntless background has taught him.

I see three figures in my periphery. Peter, Zeke, and Hana. I almost forget why Zeke and his mother are here but then I remember Uriah. I reach into my pocket for a knife to hand Zeke but he raises one up to my eyesight indicating that he's got his own. I contemplate giving it to Peter, then I remember how practically useless he is and think better of it, placing it back in my pocket.

I flank Amar as we make our way through the abandoned security check point, guns at the ready. It is there that we find Matthew talking to a large group of Bureau employees. We came at the tail end of his speech. He sees us, making eye contact with me and waving his hand down, I understand to lower my gun and I direct Amar and Christina to do the same. Matthew explains to the employees to remain calm and to take their time to process what he's just told them. He makes his way over to us.

"What's happened here?" demands Amar.

"There was an accident and a large quantity of the memory serum was released here in the compound. Only a handful of us were inoculated. Everyone here has been reset. I was just explaining it to them." Amar isn't buying it, I know that and I'm pretty sure Matthew does too. But Amar doesn't say anything, instead he looks around with narrowed eyes. Frankly I don't care if he accepts it or not. My mind is preoccupied, no matter how selfishly, with Tris. I can't help this feeling of dread that has come over me. I pray my instincts are wrong.

Matthew approaches me next and takes my elbow so that we turn away from the group. "You and I need to take a trip to the infirmary. Something's happened." His words do not help to quell the terror inside of me, in fact his words do just the opposite.

I follow him silently, afraid that if I speak I won't be able to think straight. We pass the waiting area littered with people on stretchers, some being attended to, some not. Matthew leads me to a room and the first thing I see is Caleb standing, but my eyes pass over him to Cara, who's got a bandage on her head and a bruised face. The last thing my eyes land on is Tris laying still and pale as death in the bed between them.

I break into a blind rage and grab Caleb by the throat and thrust him into the nearest wall. He does nothing to fight me. "How dare you, you worthless piece of Erudite trash! How dare you let her take your place." I can tell my hand is gripping tighter and that his face is turning purple but I don't care.

I can feel someone tugging on my shoulders and at first I choose to ignore it but then it's coming from both sides, Cara on one and Christina on the other. When had Christina followed? Somehow Cara's voice breaks through. "Stop, just Stop! She's not dead." I freeze, my hand still wrapped around Caleb's throat.

"You've got ten seconds before I squeeze the life out of him."

"It's true, Tris went into the Weapons Lab instead of him. The death serum didn't kill her though. She was shot, multiple times and was bleeding out. It was Caleb who saved her. He went in after the death serum cleared out and he stanched the bleeding and saved her life."

I slowly release Caleb's throat. He takes a big gasping breath and collapses onto the floor. I turn away from him and suddenly I'm standing over Tris. She's so pale. I look up to the monitor at her bedside, quietly beeping to indicate her heartbeat. There is another monitor with squiggly lines I don't understand. "How long has she been like this?" I direct to no one in particular.

Cara answers. "Several hours already. The doctors aren't sure when she'll wake up. They've pumped her full of blood to replace what she's lost, antibiotics to reduce any infections and pain meds. That monitor indicates her brainwaves." So unlike Uriah, Tris stands a chance at waking.

Looking back at her, I smooth my hand over her hair. She doesn't move. I bend over her and kiss her forehead. Nothing. I whisper into her ear. "Beatrice, you're the stupidest, bravest, most selfless person I know. Wake up." But she doesn't. I don't know how long I stand over her like that until someone, probably Christina, pushes a chair behind me and I eventually sit.

It seems like a long time until I'm left alone, although I don't really measure the passing of time. All I can focus on is Tris lying unconscious in the bed before me. I've got her hand in mine and rub my thumb across the back of her hand. "For once be selfish. Come on Tris, wake up, for me please. I don't want to live this life without you. Dammit." I slam my other fist down on the arm of my chair. I can't stand feeling so helpless.

"What did that chair ever do to you?" I turn to see Christina. I hadn't heard her come in. She takes a chair from across the room and pulls it next to me before sitting down. "You haven't gotten any sleep have you?"

I shake my head. "What good is sleep?"

"Well for one it'll help pass the time. Second you've been awake for nearly two days straight, your mind could use the rest."

"She's sleeping enough for the both of us." I motion my chin at Tris.

"It might be good to get some air."

"I'm just fine with the air in here thanks." But I know better than that. Christina is keeping something back. "Spit it out."

"The doctors unplugged Uriah an hour ago."

My head drops. With all of this I put Uriah in the back burner. "I should have been there, if not for Uriah, at least for Zeke."

"Everyone understands why you weren't"

I say nothing to this, there's nothing left to say. I go back to rubbing the back of Tris' hand with my thumb. Christina and I sit in silence.

Days pass, still I do not get much sleep. I can't bring myself to. On the rare occasion I do doze off I am tormented by my own mind's interpretation of what it must have been like for Tris to undergo the death serum. I try not to fall asleep just to avoid such nightmares.

I don't care much for what goes on outside of the room, I just can't bring myself to be bothered. Every once and awhile someone like Christina or Cara will come to update me. I welcome the company because it helps to keep me awake. Matthew has been busy and that's alright; I recall Cara telling me that the Council are considering him for David's replacement. As far as I'm concerned, I don't understand how they can make decisions since they were also affected by the memory serum. Matthew should have just told them that he was already named David's replacement; I suppose he's trying to maintain some sort of integrity after taking part in such a coup.

I haven't seen Amar since we returned to the compound and no one's mentioned him or George. And Caleb hasn't stepped foot into the room since I nearly suffocated him. As much as I blame him for Tris going into the Weapons Lab, I know that she wouldn't be alive, laying in this bed unconscious, if he hadn't gone in after her. Although I've put aside my desire to wring his neck, I can only imagine that I would throw him a few punches if I lay eyes on him. Nonetheless, I do think he has a responsibility to sit at his sister's bedside.

Just then I hear the sliding door behind me and I think it might be him. A hand clasps on my shoulder, a familiar hand. I recognize the footfall too.

"Zeke." I do not look up; my eyes remain on Tris. This is the first time we're in the same room since returning to the compound.

"She looks peaceful." I know he does not mean that in a negative way.

"Don't let her fool you. She has a knack of creating such an illusion even in her sleep." In my mind I am referring to two occasions; the night Tris and I laid down together in the Candor headquarters and I awoke to find that she'd gone to sacrifice herself to Jeanine Matthews, and when I found out that she'd left my old Abnegation home to work with my father behind my back. I shake my head to clear such thoughts from my mind. I try to focus on the happier moments.

"Knowing her, at least from the way my brother and you described her, I'd bet she's likely already awake and waiting for the most dramatic moment."

"She knows better than that." The mention of Uriah saddens me, partly because I wasn't there when he was unplugged and the other part because Tris would have been there if she could.

Zeke must take note of the awkward silence between us because he says, "She'll wake up when she's ready."

I nod. "Too bad she's taking her sweet time doing it." I almost don't realize I've said it outloud.

"From what Cara told me, she's been through a lot. She was shot twice before she even left the city, was nearly executed, underwent several accounts of truth serum, lost some of her closest friends and family, gone head-to-toe in a fight with one of her mentors, and I'm sure I'm missing some, all before she entered the Weapons Lab. The girl is long overdue for some rest."

"You don't need to remind me of all this. I was there or at least around when most of those happened. No one understands how much rest she needs other than me but I just wish she would wake up first, tell me she's alright and..." I trail off. Zeke and I were friends before the whole mess in Chicago, but only Tris knows my deepest thoughts, if that.

"And?" he prompts.

I sigh. "I thought that when I returned from the city that we'd be starting our lives together away from factions and away from this place. I want to take her home, wherever that will be, and there she can have all the rest she needs, with me."

"You can still have that, Four."

"The longer she stays asleep in this bed, the farther away all that seems."

I am left alone with Tris for several hours. When the door opens next it is Christina who enters. In the corner of my eye I catch her fingering the lid of the food tray the nurses bring for me since Tris is now being fed through a feeding tube.

"First you're not sleeping, now you're not eating." I don't respond; she's not my mother and frankly I don't feel the need to. "When Tris wakes up she's going to whip you back into shape."

"I'll still give her a run for her money."

Christina plops down in the chair next to me. "With all kidding aside, Four you need to take a break."

"Tris wouldn't leave me, I'm certainly not leaving her."

"I'm not saying to leave her. I'm trying to find the least rude way to tell you to take twenty minutes and shower because you reek."

I take it upon myself at that moment to sniff my armpit. "Wow."

"See what I mean?" I cough. "You've barely moved in days." Christina turns to point to the bathroom attached to the room. "You won't have to go far, there's a shower in there."

I remain unmoving for a moment and then think that there's no harm in getting myself cleaned up. I'm not doing Tris any better by rotting in my own filth. So I get up and march to the bathroom. Before I close the door behind me I stop and look at Christina. "Will you-"

"Stay with her while you wash up? Of course."

"Thank you." Christina nods and turns to look at Tris.

I don't fully understand how good it feels until the hot water hits me. The bathroom is stocked with soap that I lather all over myself. Suddenly I'm scrubbing. I can't seem to stop scrubbing as I try to wash away the last few weeks from my body. I want to go back, back to the night of the initiation ceremony just after Tris underwent her fear landscape. That's the last moment I can recall before the madness orchestrated by Jeanine Matthews ensued. I try to imagine how the night would have played out if there had been no attack simulation. But I can't because it happened and no amount of scrubbing can take those events and the memories away. I try to convince myself that I would have preferred to not have any resistance to the simulation but it's no good. The thought of remaining naive is compelling but had I not been resistant I would not have been there for Tris and she would not have been there for me.

Tris has become my sanity and my saving grace. Although I know that I could go on without her as she could go on without me, that is a reality I don't even waste my time contemplating. For knowing Tris has made me a better man and her presence will only continue to do so.

The shower water slowly runs cold and I take that as my cue that I've been here too long. I rinse off and step out. I look around the bathroom; the only clothes I have are my soiled ones. With the towel tightly wrapped around my waist I open the door.

Christina is sitting in the same place. One of her hands however covers her eyes while the other is outstretched towards me. "I'm sorry, I forgot to give you this." In her outstretched hand is a bundle; I take it and return to the bathroom.

I emerge a few moments later donning a black T-shirt and blue jeans. "Thanks," I say to Christina. She no longer covers her eyes.

"No problem. Believe me, you're doing us all a service."

I mock a laugh and nudge her in the shoulder with my fist and I make my way to my chair. I take Tris' hand in both of mine. Christina and I sit together with Tris as we have done everyday since.


	2. The weight of it all

**Tris**

My chest feels heavy, constricted. I try to lift my limbs, they feel laden, like the weight of other bodies on top of me are keeping me down. They are the bodies of all the people I have killed, personally or by circumstance. I open my eyes, there are too many bodies, that I cannot see.

I hear Al first, crying and sobbing like he did every night in the Dauntless dormitory. He's speaking in between his sobs and it takes me a moment to understand him, and then he says my name followed by an apology. I never wished his death even after he conspired with Peter to kill me. I can't take back my words and I can't bring him back, but the weight of his death crushes me.

I hear my mother's voice next, sweet and inviting as it was when I last saw her. She was not the woman I thought she was, she was better. It sends tears to my eyes to think that I will never be able to tell her that. She died to give me a chance to escape. I lived and she died, and for what? I seemed to make a bigger mess of things.

Will's voice cuts in, cracking a joke as usual. I don't find it funny. His death weighs most heavily. It was unnecessary and rash. Although I am ever grateful that on some level Christina has forgiven me, this is one instance that I could never forgive myself. I will never hear his jokes again or see his smile or feel his arm wrap around my shoulders to comfort me. He lives in my memory and it is there that his death haunts me.

My father says my name. I did not know him well and I may not have understood him, but I've grown to respect him.

I hear Marlene's screams as she fell. I know that I made the right choice, I could not have grabbed them both. Her death hurt Uriah the most and hurts me to see him so sad. I hear Lynn's voice next. I wasn't responsible for her death but I saw her body on the ground. Her death weighs on me because I couldn't warn her.

Why I hear Jeanine Matthews' voice perturbs me. I suppose on some level I pity her death because she was a puppet of the Bureau. That does not exonerate her, still she did not deserve to die. She should have been tried.

Tori tells me that I am Divergent, a word's meaning that has changed according to who says it. I put the fight over Jeanine behind us. I can only imagine how guilty she would have felt to know that George is not dead after all. Instead I picture her in the tattoo shop, smiling up at me as she works the needle over the ribs of another Dauntless faction member. We should have warned her not to walk ahead of the group, I should have warned her. I couldn't make it over to her in time.

Uriah calls me gorgeous and I can't help but smile. He's always trying to make me feel better, well not anymore. We were standing so close, it could have been me. I know that his presence here means that he has been unplugged. I was not there to say goodbye.

There are voices I don't hear. Caleb. Christina. Cara. Matthew. Zeke and Hana. Amar. George. Tobias. They are still alive. If I stay here I will never know in what state of alive they are in. I have to get back to them, to him. We agreed to start our lives together. I long for more moments waking up next to him. But if I am here, maybe I am dead too. No, that can't be. I have seen the world I grew up in destroyed, that can't be it, I have not learned to value my life only to lose it at the climax of our battle. I do not consent to die. I have so much left to live for. I want to see the world changed and become something better. I need to wake up.


	3. Voice through the thickness

**Tobias**

I'm standing before a pair of large reinforced metal doors. They've been blown open by some massive explosion. Smoke lingers so that I cannot see past it. I cough as the smoke enters my lungs; I have to wait for it to clear. When it does at first I see nothing then my eyes adjust and I spot the silhouette of someone hunched over. I hear coughing, lots of coughing.

I move towards the coughing figure to offer my help. A bloody hand is flatly outstretched towards me, warning me to stay back. I notice at the figure's feet that there is a contraption with a green button. Looking back at the figure I call out a name. iTris./i I am answered with more coughing. I take another step towards the figure and sure enough it is Tris. She is covered in dirt and blood. At first I hope that it is not her blood but my hopes quickly evaporate when I see two bullet holes; one at her chest and the other in her stomach. Blood is pouring from her wounds.

I continue towards her so that there are only inches between us and I reach out to her so that I may take her into my arms and whisk her to safety. As soon as I touch her she erupts in terrifying shrieking screams. I try to soothe her but the screams only grow louder and more intense. She is so slick with blood that she is slipping through my grasp. I lose my hold on Tris entirely and she drops to the ground. She is laying on her back with her eyes closed. I think I've lost her but I touch her neck and her wrist frantically looking for a pulse that I do not find. Her eyes open wide suddenly and her lips form something I do not hear. I try to figure out what she's saying but for some reason I am unable to read her lips. And then as if her lips are right next to my ear I hear my name as clear as ever.

I open my eyes to find my head resting in my arms that are propped on the side of Tris' bed. I could have sworn I heard my name but it must have been in my dreams. I must have fallen asleep after Christina left. Then I hear something and I freeze in place.

"To-bi-as." The voice, undeniably hoarse from disuse, unmistakably belongs to Tris.

My head pops up and I see her eyes; open slits that are trained on me. In that moment I've never seen eyes more beautiful than hers. Like a spring I'm up at attention. My hands cup each side of her face and I bring my forehead to hers.

I whisper her name. "Tris." I pull back enough to see her smile.

Her voice cracks. "I knew I wasn't dead."

I can't help but laugh. "You came back to me."

"Part of the reason I did is because I knew you'd be waiting." At that moment I can't contain myself and I kiss her and she kisses me back.

When I finally break our kiss I say, "Would it be completely selfish of me to wait a moment or two before I tell our friends you are awake?"

She smiles and oh how I've missed her smile. "I think we can both stand a moment to be a little selfish." I can't help it, I kiss her again.

After a couple of nurses and a doctor check out Tris, we are told that she can have other visitors. Christina is the first one in, making her way over to Tris and wrapping her dark arms around her in an embrace. Cara enters next. The hug she gives Tris is a bit awkward and I realize they are not exactly friends. This whole experience has made Cara and I more closer than the two of them. Zeke bolts in, unsure of where to touch Tris so that he won't hurt her, he resigns to tapping her on the shoulder and telling her that he's glad she's awake.

I take my seat next to Tris' bedside and slide my fingers in between hers while she engages in conversation with the others. In the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of Caleb. He stands in the doorway. My desire to hit him has subsided for the time being. I prefer to relish in the moment of being at Tris' side.

Her fingers squeeze mine. Although she's listening to Christina update her on what she's missed in the last few days, I meet her eyes as she steals a glance at me. A small look like that and my blood is rising to my face. Tris blushes too. We have much to discuss, but now all I want to do is to take her home (wherever that will be) and continue where we both intended our last morning together to go had we not been part of saving Chicago from being reset and staging a coup at the Bureau.

With Cara now talking to Tris, I see Christina make her way over to me. She bends down to whisper into my ear. "Aren't you glad you took my advice and showered today?"

I burst out laughing so loud that it interrupts Cara mid-sentence. I doesn't bother Tris though. Instead she look over and me and smiles.


	4. Flutters of the heart

**Tris**

The doctors have told me that I'm well enough to be discharged. Tobias is securing us transportation to the city of Chicago. We had a very long conversation about where we would go. Neither of us have any attachment here and we're tired of corruption. Despite the incident we pulled with the memory serum, we haven't cured this place entirely.

In regards to Chicago, both Christina and Cara have told me that the factions are no longer, but neither are the people forced to conform to a singular idea. Tobias assures me that Evelyn has no involvement. In fact, today the people of Chicago will be electing its new leaders, a council of thirteen. I'm told that Johanna Reyes is one of the candidates.

As for the people themselves, no one is bound to a particular part of the city or to the city itself. For those who choose to stay they can enroll in any field that they have interest in and they can change their interest at any time. The idea is that each person will contribute to the city as a whole, completing tasks based on their personal preference. It is because of those reasons that Tobias and I have decided to return. We each want to see the city through its changes.

Tobias has asked me to live with him and I have accepted. We won't be living in either former Abnegation or Dauntless territories. Instead we wish to start fresh, We have chosen an area between former Candor and Amity, for its seclusion and peaceful scenery but being not too far from the center of the city. Tobias says he will figure out his job interest when we settle in. Part of me already has an idea of what I want to do.

The sound of the sliding door pulls me out of my reverie. I'm surprised when I look up to see my brother in the doorway. We haven't spoken since I convinced him to let me go into the Weapons Lab. Although he was present when the others came to visit me after I woke up, we did not speak.

"Hello," I say. At first all he does is stare at me and then I hear a gulping sound from his throat. He must be nervous. "Cara told me that you were the first one into the Weapons Lab after the death serum cleared. She said that you stopped the bleeding and if you hadn't I would have bled out and died."

He speaks up then. "It should have been me."

But I ignore him. "Thank you," I say before getting off the bed. I make my way to him, albeit slowly because I haven't walked in days and it hurts, and wrap my arms around him.

Initially he's as stiff as a statue and I think how ironic that is since he chose Euridite. Then his arms wrap around me. I feel his tears along my neck. We stand like that for a while and then I tell him Tobias should be back soon. That seems to make him uneasy and he pulls away almost too quickly. When I ask him about it he just brushes me off. But I'm me and I can't let it go, so when I press him further he tells me how Tobias practically strangled him. I'm not angry at Tobias; I know why he did it. When Caleb warns me about his temper I tell him that I know his temper and that he would never lay his hands on me.

He's gone before Tobias returns and when he does, I'm dressed in clothes Christina brought me. Tobias is smiling when he walks in.

"What?"

He continues towards me, both of his hands landing on each of my hips, pulling me close. "You look beautiful in white." His lips are on my neck leaving a trail of kisses to my three ravens. His fingers hook into the waistband of my blue jeans and he presses himself to me.

My hands are in his hair. "And you were telling me to wait until we get our own place."

Just hearing the sound of his laughter makes it all worth it.


	5. The beginning of a beautiful

**Tobias**

"Keep your eyes shut, okay?" Tris giggles but concedes.

She already knows what the outside of our new house looks like; there was no keeping that from her. I wanted to do something special for her during her recovery and she agreed to leave the furnishings to me. I scoop her up; the sound of her laughing makes my heart melt as I'd caught her off guard.

"I thought men carried women like this after they were married."

"Matthew said it was also acceptable to carry my woman into our new threshold." I kick the door open, making our way inside.

"Your woman?"

I set Tris down gently on her feet. "Open your eyes." She does; her question forgotten at the door. "Do you like it?"

Tris smiles. "I do. I can't believe you did all this, I mean I saw you building it with Zeke, but still I'm amazed." She spins around, taking in the rest of the space. "I can certainly see the influence in the decor." She refers to the various shades of gray and black.

"I felt a little selfish picking everything." She opens her mouth to protest. I put my hands up, signaling her to hear me out. "I thought about how it was before I met you. I left the Abnegation gray behind to join the black of Dauntless in order to escape my father. But then you came along with your blond hair and your light blue eyes and it hit me- You brought the color into my life. I was hoping you would do the same here and bring the color to _our_ home."

Almost on command blood rushes to Tris' cheeks, turning them a rose-red. I hadn't expected her to respond the way she does. I am surprised when her arms come to the back of my head, her fingers weave into my hair, pulling me down into a kiss. During the construction and preparation of our house, we'd gone back to my apartment at the Dauntless compound. We've kissed many times since returning to the city but being in the privacy of our new home seems to have changed things.

With my hands on Tris' hips, I walk her backwards until I press her into the nearest wall. Our kisses grow more passionate and more desperate. I've lost all control of my hands as they cup under each of her butt cheeks, sliding to the backs of her thighs, and pulling her legs to wrap around my hips. Although she doesn't resist, her lips pull away from mine. Pressing my forehead to hers, it seems I've lost control of my mouth too. "Too much, too fast?" My breath is uneven and I'm trying to catch up.

Tris shakes her head. "It isn't. I want to, it's just..." She falls silent and I know there's something holding her back. She won't tell me if she doesn't want to and there is no coaxing I can do to change that. I kiss the top of her head and I wait. Her eyes slowly rise to meet mine. She bites her lip, a habit I've come to recognize that she exhibits when she's nervous. She lets out a long exhale. "I'm worried that my scars will bother you, that you won't find me attractive anymore."

"Tris, I've seen your scars before." I don't say it in a condescending tone because it's a matter of fact.

"But not when we're like this." Tris uses her hands to bring attention to the position we are in. "I know I've been insecure about my body before and you've helped me get through that. It's just that I myself am not used to the way my body is now and I can't help but feel that you might find it unpleasant or unattractive."

I sigh. "Your scars are a part of you, they tell the story of what you've been through. How could I find that unpleasant? There isn't a single part of me that's not attracted to you." To stress my point I press my pelvis into her. She closes her eyes and sighs, what I can only hope is a pleasant one. "It's taking all my self control right now not to show you all the ways I'm attracted to you."

She smiles. "I think I might like your lack of self control, at least in this area."

I kiss her and she kisses me back, her lips parting, allowing the invasion of my tongue. And just like that, her hands are back in my hair. I love the feel of her fingers running along my scalp, even when she pulls my short waves; the small pain is exhilarating. Her hips arch into me and I can feel the she's comfortable again. I want to carry her to the bedroom but I have to be strategic about it or she'll spook.

I've come to believe that in many situations interacting with Tris is like stalking a deer. At the compound, when the screens showing the coverage of the factions were uneventful, Matthew had introduced me to television programs. I quickly found myself enthralled by one program in particular, which covered an array of animals and their behaviors. In many ways Tris is synonymous to that of a deer. Watching Tris can be tranquil; there is something so calming about her, I realized this even as I trained her. However, if you act too rash or too harshly, she is easily spooked. As a result, like male deer (buck), she quickly charges into action. But if I've learned anything so far through my relationship with her, it's to not manipulate her while keeping my own concerns inside.

Our kisses only grow in passion and intensity. I'm trying to discern a way to clue her into where my body and mind intend this to go. Her hands have already removed my shirt and her fingers hook into the waistband of my jeans. Keeping her pressed against the wall with my lower body, my fingers grasp for the hem of her shirt. She doesn't stop me as I work it off of her. My lips are at her neck, trailing kisses at one of her breasts. She gasps. As I suck her soft flesh, leaving a reddish-purple mark, my fingers work to relieve her of her bra. By then Tris has worked open the button holding my jeans together; now the only things keeping them up are the fact that our pelvises are pressed together and her legs are wrapped firmly around my waist. I think that maybe we are on the same page, but I need to hear her say it.

I lift my lips from her other breast long enough to say her name. "Tris." It's all I need to do to draw her attention from our passion.

Her head, which had previously been tilted back, rotates forward and my eyes rise to meet hers. There is no question in her eyes, no hesitation. I bet she can see the question in mine. She smiles. "Tobias, take me to bed."

My lips crash to hers for a moment and then I peel her from the wall. With her legs securely wrapped around my waist and my hands cupping her bottom, I carry her to our new bedroom. A quarter of the way there my jeans have somehow found their way from beneath her hold and slide down to my ankles, making it a feat that I'm still moving gracefully. We are less than five feet from the open bedroom door when I hear a loud knock coming from the front door.

I freeze. My eyes meet Tris' and I know she's heard it too. There will be no ignoring it. "Who is it?" I yell behind me.

It's Christina. Also there's Cara, Zeke, Shauna, and even Matthew came all the way from the compound."

I growl into Tris' ear; it's something primal and unexpected, but she doesn't seem to mind. Her low giggle is the only response. I carefully put her down and lean my forehead against hers. Our friends are here earlier than planned. "Go away," I say, but only loud enough for Tris to hear.

"As much as I wish we could just ignore them, they did come all this way for our housewarming."

I should never have let Christina talk me into having everyone over the first day we are in our new home. Truth be told, we haven't all been in the same room since Tris woke up in the Bureau infirmary. Plus, it would be nice to spend time with friends in a recreational setting. I sigh and kiss Tris' forehead. "Be right there," I yell to the front door. When I turn, I have forgotten my pants at my ankles and I trip, face-planting on the tile floor with an audible smack. I roll onto my back to see Tris doubled over, her hands covering her mouth as she stifles her laugh.

"Are you okay?" she asks when she regains composure, but I'm already up, fixing my pants and making my way to my previously discarded shirt. Tris' clothes are not far from mine. I toss her her top and bra, teasing that she may want to put some clothes on. She turns a shade of pink and I can't help but smirk. She's dressed and fixing her hair by the time I open the door to let our friends in.

Christina steps in first, taking in my disheveled appearance without saying a word. Unlike Tris, I hadn't bothered to smooth down my hair. Zeke piles in next; depositing a large case of beer into my hands. "Drink up," he says. Shauna wheels herself in behind him and I bend down to give her a kiss on the cheek, a Dauntless custom between good friends I perform without thinking but am still not entirely used to. Perhaps it's my Abnegation upbringing that finds it strange to kiss anyone other than my significant other. Cara strolls in next, her hands full with two trays of food. Last to enter is Matthew. I shake his hand and thank him for coming all this way and he tells me that he can't stay long. In his other hand he's waving a bottle of some unfamiliar clear liquid. He continues inside to greet Tris and as I'm closing the door I wonder where Caleb is, but my concern isn't voiced and in an instant I'm engaging in conversation with Zeke as he teases me for the dreary decor. I catch Tris smile in the corner of my eye.

My attention is returned to our guests when I notice Zeke plop down on the couch. He's already popping bottle caps from the beer he carried in. I place the other case, the one he handed me at the door, into the refrigerator and make my way to him. Everyone else has been handed a beer, even Tris; at that moment I recall that I've never seen her drink before. Zeke places a chilled beer in my hand and stands up.

"Alright everybody, I would like to toast our dear friends, Four and Tris on their new place. May they keep good company, a happy home, and never shall they go a night without a bump in the sheets." Blood rushes to my face and immediately my ears feel hot.

"Zeke!" Shauna yells at him and smacks him in the gut with the back of her hand.

"Oof." He mocks pain from the hit by doubling over and placing a hand over his stomach. He recovers quickly. "On a serious note, may both of you find here your well deserved peace and happiness together. To Four and Tris!"

In unison, we all raise our beers and including myself, repeating Zeke's last four words. We clank bottles together and I glance around the room as everyone takes a sip, some taking larger sips than others. I take two large gulps of the beer, noting to myself that this is going to be a long night.

I urge anyone standing to sit and since Shauna is in her wheelchair, that pretty much means everyone else. Christina disregards me, instead she's off in the kitchen warming the trays of food Cara brought. Zeke reclaims his previous seat; I observe him offer to help Shauna out of the chair but she declines. On the other side of the sofa, Cara and Matthew sit together. The only place left in the living room is the single-seat sofa chair, which with beer in hand I ultimately occupy. Tris takes up residence on the arm of my chair and I hook my free arm around her waist, pulling her onto my lap. At first she seems a little uncomfortable, but soon she relaxes, sagging into the shape of my body.

Christina returns from the kitchen moments later and squeezes in between Zeke and Cara. "While the food is reheating in the oven, why don't we play a game?"

"What kind of game?" The corner of Zeke's mouth twitches, the way it often does when he's up to no good.

"I can only imagine what kind of game you want to play," says Tris, "Just for the record, I'll be keeping my clothes on." I squeeze her hip and she pinches my arm in return.

Christina sticks her tongue out at Tris. "As much fun as a stripping game would be, I thought we'd start with something not so revealing, considering that we're in the home of former stiffs." She reaches between her feet, rummaging through her bag and retrieves a stack of cups and a couple of ping pong balls. "This is a quickly and easy way to loosen those stiffs limbs and lips of yours."

Only Zeke cracks up. Pointing to Christina he says, "I see what you did there."

Before I know it, the chairs are pulled away from the dining table and on opposite ends of the table, Christina has arranged the cups in a triangle formation. We've broken up into teams; Shauna, Zeke, Cara, and Matthew on one team while Christina, Tris, and myself are on the other. Christina proclaims that she'll be playing double due to the odd number of players on our team. I overhear Tris whispering into Christina's ear, asking where Caleb is. I don't hear her response, it's drowned out by the sound of Zeke's holler as he announces the start of the game.

Five rounds later, despite the fact we've won being short handed I wonder if there really is a winner, considering the burning sensations in my belly from all the cups of beer I've guzzled down. Zeke is demanding a rematch but I'm distracted by the sight of Matthew's arms wrapped around Cara's waist. She's leaning in to him and they're close enough to kiss. I feel hands snake around my own waist. When I look down, the burning in my belly spreads as I meet Tris' eyes as she snuggles to me under my arm. I kiss the top of her head. I'm eager to continue where we left off earlier but then I remember the obstacle of our friends scattered around the room.

My attention is drawn back to the party as the sound of Zeke's whopping threatens to break the sound barrier. When I look up, Cara is in Matthew's arms and he's kissing her. I raise the cup in my hand in salute. I'm surprised as Tris makes her own catcall. With my free hand I tilt her chin up and bring my lips to hers. After I pull away I decide to revive a memory from what feels like so long ago.

"You look good Tris."

She turns as red as she did the first time I said those words. I'm surprised I can remember given how much I've had to drink. I want to kiss her now just as I wanted to back then, but now I act on it. I hear Zeke's whooping, undoubtedly directed at Tris and me. I ignore him and continue to kiss her. When we've decided it's enough for our public displays of affection, Tris runs off to chat with Christina and Shauna. I catch Zeke taunting Cara and Matthew and I clap my hand on my best friend's shoulder.

"Enough perv."

"Oh come on Four, it's not everyday the gang's together. I'm just trying to have some fun."

Matthew steps towards me. "Actually it's alright. I've got to head back to the Bureau now anyway." He extends his hand to me. "Tobias, it was nice to see you, as always. See you soon." I take his hand and we shake; I keep forgetting that it isn't only a Dauntless custom.

When he leaves me to say goodbye to Tris, I turn back to Zeke. "All the same, why don't you start paying attention to the woman who actually wants it?" With both of my hands on his shoulders, I position him so that he's facing Shauna, engaged as she is in conversation with the other girls, she doesn't notice. It's like he's seeing her for the first time and his eyes widen. "Go get her." I find myself giving him a pat on the butt, a common Dauntless male-to-male gesture that I normally refrain from using. I chalk it up to the fact that I've been drinking. Shauna smiles up at Zeke and I think just maybe there's hope for him.

Matthew is gone and while Zeke and Shauna are making goo goo eyes at each other I notice that the rest of the what's left of the party are standing in a circle, paying their surroundings no mind. I make to approach them until I catch wind of their conversation, which stops me in my tracks.

"You're kidding me! The two of you still haven't?" Christina exclaims.

Tris shakes her head. "I don't want to talk about this."

"Come on! I might die if you don't tell me."

"Yeesh, way to make it so dramatic," chimes Cara.

Christina whirls on her. "You don't understand. I've been waiting for those two to get it on for months now."

"Get it on? Really?"

Tris is covering her face, no doubt from the embarrassment. I would be too.

Christina must see out of the corner of her eye because she turns back to her. "Tris please!"

Tris' hands drop from her face. "We were about to and then you guys showed up."

"Talk about bad timing," says Christina.

"You mean all this time, even since you two were sharing an apartment at the Dauntless compound, you hadn't even once?" Cara covers her mouth to hide her laugh; she isn't doing a good job, given that I can tell from where I'm standing.

"Well it wasn't exactly romantic. I was covered in bandages. It wasn't like we were completely alone anyway, I mean all that stood between us and the rest of the compound was a hallway."

"And it's a pretty busy hallway," adds Christina.

"I just don't get how he can resist such urges." Cara starts in about chemicals in the body and what not but I don't hear anymore of it because Tris looks up and instantly our eyes meet. She doesn't express embarrassment, instead she gives me a look that tells me she wants to be saved and that's exactly what I do. I step over to the circle of women and grab Tris' hand, pulling her away.

Glancing into my cup, I see it's empty. I've had enough to drink anyway, we all have. I place the cup down on the table. "Excuse me everyone." I check to see I have their attention. "On behalf of both of us, I'd like to thank you for coming. Now if you don't mind, I think it is time Tris and I enjoy our new home together."


	6. Sweet Sensations

**Tris**

It took some coaxing on Zeke's part. Tobias even had to yell at him to get out, but eventually they all left. I thought they'd never leave.

I look around the space. From where I'm standing I can see the dining room, the living room, and the kitchen; I recall Tobias saying it is called an open concept. Hours ago I saw, despite lacking some color, a beautiful home. Now I'm staring at a disaster. There are cups, plates, and utensils strewn everywhere. Maybe the fact that I've had so much to drink explains why I don't really care to clean up. I don't think I'm drunk but then again I've never really drank before so I could be wrong.

Suddenly Tobias comes into view and whatever I'd been thinking about is gone from my mind. There's only him, there's only ever been him. And now I'm wondering how I never knew him before I transferred to Dauntless. He's reaching out to me, my body moves into his arms of its own volition. He's so big and warm and I relish in the fact that I feel safe here. We fit perfectly, me under his arms, resting my head on his shoulder.

I feel his breath on the back of my neck and then he's kissing the sensitive skin there. His lips are warm and leaving a trail of fire as he continues to my shoulder which is left exposed because I'm wearing one of the tank tops Christina got me. His hand supersedes his mouth as he reaches for my hand. I let him do what he wants and he brings it to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of my hand. I lift my head to look at him; his dark blue eyes are shielded from me. My other hand cups his face and I stand on the tips of my toes as I reach up to place a gentle kiss on his lips. He returns the kiss, less gently.

As soon as our lips break apart he turns away, still keeping hold of my hand, and pulls me to follow him. I can see that he's leading me to the bedroom and I'm excited but also apprehensive. We've talked about our mutual lack of experience before and I don't want to bring it up again now, I just can't help the nervous feeling that has found its way into the pit of my stomach.

Without meaning to, I resist. The small pull of my hand, the one he's holding on to, sets off a reaction in him. He stops abruptly and turns to me. His expression hasn't changed but I know that my apprehension has bothered him. He's being polite and not questioning me. I take a deep breath. I'd already let my insecurities get in the way of our passion once today and I'm determined to not let it happen for a second time.

"I'm sorry."

"Tris, it's okay." He pulls my hand up to his chest, resting it above his heart. "I'm as nervous as you."

The gesture reminds me of the time he took me into his fear landscape, during his second fear where the walls were closing in on him. I'd brought his hand to my chest so that he could feel the beating of my heart to help calm him. Although his heartbeat is not in anyway calm now, it helps me to know that his heart and mine are connected in such a way that it actually does help calm my nerves.

I press into him and kiss the place where his hand holds mine. I love him. It's all I need. I turn my hand in his, so that I'm holding it and I pull him the rest of the way to the bedroom.

The room is dark and Tobias flicks the light-switch on. Before I can figure out what to do next, he scoops me up and deposits me on the edge of the bed. It's made and at first it seems a shame to ruin it but then I think to hell with it. I scoot back and Tobias follows, crawling onto it on his knees. I lean back against the pillows and he leans over me. Snaking my fingers into his hair, I pull him towards me and our lips crash together. Tobias' lips resume the trail of fire he'd started before from my neck to my collar bone. His hands are shaking as he reaches for my shirt; I help him and the shaking stops. I take it upon myself to remove my bra. He removes his own t-shirt before his mouth attends to my breasts. He takes his time working each of my nipples to hard peaks, taking them into his mouth and teasing them with his tongue and teeth.

While his mouth is busy with my breasts, his hands are tasked with removing my pants. I'm left in nothing but my underwear. He doesn't bring attention to any of my scars and frankly they are forgotten even to myself. The touch of one of his hands on my thigh has my hips arching towards him. I don't shy away from his touch as I have in the past, now I embrace it. His mouth has moved on, continuing down past my bellybutton and further. His hand wills my knees apart and he settles between my legs. It tickles as his lips are kissing the width between my hips.

My own hands are shaking now as I reach for the button of his jeans, all attempts to steady them have failed, but I continue and eventually the button comes undone. He aids me in pulling down the material and as he shimmies out of his pants, I realize that I've stopped breathing. He's working his boxers off and I think, this is it, there's no going back. And I don't want to. My eyes glance over his body, the familiar parts as well as the new ones, taking all of him in. My lace underwear is the only thing left between us. Tobias' lips press into mine, a nice distraction as his fingers hook into the fabric of my underwear, pulling it down and off of my legs.

I watch him as his eyes assess my body; his smile is hungry. I'm surprised by his hand coming up between my legs; it's not like he hasn't touched me there before but what he's doing now is different from anything I've ever felt before. His fingers are gentle as they prob between my folds, causing more wetness to pool there. As his thumb is working my nub, my head tilts back and my hips arch more so that my back is practically no longer touching the bed. One of his fingers delves deep and my walls clamp around it. Not before long he adds another. He's working me, preparing me for what's to come and although at times I find the sensations strange and alien, they're also pleasant. When I think I never want him to stop, he withdraws his fingers.

My breath is coming in short and I wonder just how much better can it get? He kisses me again and presses himself to me. Taking a moment to position himself, I take this time to let myself relinquish any qualms, if any, I may have had up until this moment. I feel the pressure as he pushes his way in and although I don't mean to, I feel my body tensing.

He cups my face in his hands. "Tris." Leaning his forehead to mine he says, "Breathe Tris, breathe." I'm trying to do as his says, focusing of breathing in and out. He pushes in a little further. "That's good Tris, just like that."

I hadn't realized I closed my eyes so I pop them open. His eyes are on me and I latch onto the blue color, letting it calm me. He's able to push in more and it hurts, I can't hide it. My brows furrow together and I see that his are doing the same. I wonder how this feels for him because the best I can tell, I'm squeezing him like a vise. I continue to focus on my breathing and he pushes more. It feels like he's reached an impenetrable barrier, there's some pressure and suddenly it's gone and he slides in all the way. He doesn't move, he's frozen that way, with our pelvises pressed together. I'm staring up at him and I see that his breaths are coming in as jagged as mine.

I can't help it. "Tobias, are you okay."

He chokes out a laugh between breaths. "I'm great, Tris." He takes a few breaths. "You?"

"Never better."

He kisses me and suddenly I feel him withdrawing. I want to tell him to stop but then he comes crashing back. A wave of pleasure surges through me, causing me to cry out. He does it again and I hear his own grunt. Tobias continues, finding a rhythm. His hands are gripping my hips as his thrusts grow in speed. We're both making sounds and I'm not quite sure which sounds are coming from whom. I've called out his name more than once. His thrusts are harder and faster and his fingers are digging into my hips but that isn't why I'm calling out. I feel something building inside me, a pressure that's close to release. Tobias looks like he's stopped breathing, I don't know how he's managed to speak.

"Tris, I love you."

And then we both release. His thrusts are slowing and the pressure of his hands on my hips is easing. He stops moving inside me altogether. He's looking down at me.

"I love you," I tell him. He smiles and sinks down over me but careful not to crush me with his weight.

I don't know when I'll ever catch my breath and I don't care. I've just had the most amazing experience, I don't know how I've gone so long without it. This is one experience I insist on repeating.


	7. Tangles Limbs and Tangled Hearts

**Tobias**

My eyes open to the glow of the morning sunlight peering in through the sheer drapes. I remain still, feeling the weight of Tris' sleeping form propped against my chest, her leg swung over my hips. I can't help myself; feather light fingers glide over the sensitive skin of her bare thigh. Immediately upon contact, images flood into my mind of the previous night, of the intimacy Tris and I shared. I'm at a loss for words, not that I'm particularly good with them anyway.

Just then I feel her stir; it's a small movement, her head nuzzling against my chest. Her soft hair is causing goosebumps to form as my skin springs to life from the stimulation. I smile. It amazes me that something as small as her head moving against me brings my entire body to attention. I can't help the effect it has had on my groin. Despite being careful not to wake her, Tris must feel my growing arousal because even with her eyes closed, her hand finds its way under her thigh and she takes me into her hand. My body jerks in response. On my chest I feel the corner of her lips curving into a smile. She knows exactly what she's doing.

I bring my fingers to her chin, tilting her face up, I kiss her long and deep. She moans into the kiss while her hand is busy between us. As much as I'd like to lay back and let her have her way with me, I'm losing my reserve. I shift, in one easy motion I have her pinned beneath me. Her eyes are open now and the light cascading over her adds a certain glow to her skin. Her eyes are the lightest shade of blue I've ever seen. She's like a feast, laid out before me in the bed and this is one feast I intend to engorge myself. I kiss her again, parting her lips with my tongue and as my hips press into her I think _I could get used to this_ and I wonder how I've waited so long.

I take Tris' hand from between us and bring it, open palm to my lips, placing a kiss there. With my other hand I reach for hers, taking them both above her head and shackling them in mine. In one smooth motion I'm inside her and there's no place I'd rather be. It's easier now compared to last night and even though it's only the second time for both of us, I feel more practiced and more confident. I'm determined to draw it out this time. And that's exactly what I do.

I ease out of her slowly and painstakingly to the point in which only the tip of me is inside her. I stay that way, watching her face. Her lips are parted and her tongue juts out to lick her upper lip and once it's returned to her mouth, she nibbles her lower lip. As soon as she sets it free, I push forward. The sound of her moan and mine mixed together echos through our bedroom. I'm all the way in and I can feel her velvety walls contracting around me. Tris' hands break free of my hold, finding their way to my back, the tips of her fingers pressing into me; no doubt had she let her nails grow, I'd have ten bloody crescent-shaped marks adding to the Dauntless tattoos that cover my backside.

I admire Tris' tattoos then, the ravens at her collarbone. As I withdraw I press kisses to the black birds. In the midst of it all, my mind conjures the memory, the first time I saw them, the first time Tris wore a tank top. I found them sexy then and I find them sexy now because there are not only three birds but four; Tris decided to add one while we were staying at the Dauntless compound in my old apartment. I pay the most attention to the newest bird since it's the one that represents me.

She calls out my name and I push into her. One of my hands comes to rest on her hip while I've found a rhythm and Tris responds in kind, her hips rocking as she meets every one of my thrusts. As my thrusts increase, her hands have found my face, cupping my cheeks and she wills me down to hers. My lips meet hers, this time it is her tongue parting my lips. She moans into my mouth and I push into her harder. Her lips break away from mine as she cries out in pleasure; all I want to do is please her and while doing so, she pleases me, more than she'll ever know. I still find it hard to swallow, my Abnegation upbringing making it difficult to understand how one could find happiness in the happiness of someone else, it's just not allowed. But that's exactly what I've found with Tris. We make each other happy; it's more than I thought I'd ever have and perhaps more than I deserve. I don't dwell too long though, because I'm consumed by the sensations our bodies are making together.

My lips are peppering kisses along her jaw to the sensitive place in her neck, my teeth scraping the skin there. I suck on her flesh, leaving a purple mark there, marking her as my own. I pull back surveying my work. I can't hide the smug look on my face and Tris must see it because she's wearing one too. Our lips crash together and while our mouths are busy, my hands are traveling their way down her sides, stopping when I've reached her bottom. My own fingers sink into the flesh there as I press myself into her faster and harder. I never want this to end but I feel the pressure building in me, begging for release. Tris' lips pull away from mine and she's moaning so loud and so frequently, I don't know how she's managed to breathe. She calls out my name and the pressure in me spikes. I lean my forehead into her, my fingers digging into her butt cheeks but she doesn't make any indication it bothers her. Her fingertips are undoubtedly leaving marks, even without nails, and frankly I don't care. I'm jack-hammering into her and suddenly I feel her release as a wave of warm liquid floods over me. I make sure to capture her eyes with mine. I call out her name, just once, and then I'm spilling myself inside her. My thrusts are slowing but I don't look away from her. Her breaths are coming in small gasps as she rides the tail end of her orgasm. When I'm spent, my body nearly gives out. I'm mindful not to crush her as I sink against her, my head tucking into the crook of her neck. I feel her pulse against my lips, our hearts in sync.

A few moments tick by and neither of us has moved. Slowly her hands find their way into my hair, soothing me as her fingers run along my scalp. I plant a kiss against the sensitive skin of her neck. Pulling back I see her lips parted, my thumbing comes up to rub against her bottom lip. I kiss her lips and when I pull away this time, I withdraw from her. She lets out a jagged gasp, as if my leaving her protective walls has somehow taken a piece of her. Strangely enough, that's exactly how I feel, like a part of me was left inside her and I can only get it back when we're one. I nearly collapse into the plush mattress, pulling Tris with me so that we lay just as we did when we woke this morning.


	8. Stiffs don't kiss and tell

**Tris**

I grab a stack of blankets from the back of the truck. Turning around, I find that the fringe is as desolate and as dingy as my last visit. No one comes out to greet the supply truck, they never do, and that's why I bring the supplies to them.

Christina appears from around the side of the truck, gun held at alert in her hands. "Tell me again why we hand out our city's supplies to such ungrateful and not to mention unfriendly people?"

"If we don't, who will?"

Christina shrugs. Despite her reservations, she volunteered to chaperon.

Another truck pulls up next to ours. It has the Bureau's seal on the side, indicating that our security has finally arrived. Apparently a handful of former Dauntless faction members aren't enough to protect our party. I roll my eyes. I'm not surprised when Amar and George, among others, emerge from the government truck.

Amar makes his way over to me. "Just how long do you and your party intend to stay here this time?"

I start moving to the nearest structure. Christina, Amar, and George follow me, guns raised. "Until all the supplies are given out." I duck under the tarp blocking the entrance of the shelter, reemerging two blankets short.

"Or until the bullets start ringing in," says Amar.

I smile as I continue to the next shelter. "Maybe not even then."

I catch George's smile just before I knock on the metal sheet barricading the entrance to the shelter. It opens just enough for an arm to fit through.

"Blankets," I say into the opening, "how many do you need?" It's dark and I cannot see inside.

"Three," replies a raspy voice.

I count three from the pile in my arms and hold them in front of the door opening. The door opens more and two dirty arms reach out, gently taking the blankets from me.

Surveying the amount of blankets I have left, I continue to another shelter. I nearly walk into Christina and I catch her eyes, ever observant, on my neck. I walk passed her but she keeps up behind me.

Whispering in my ear, "Is that a hickey I see?"

I feel heat rising to my face instantly. "Leave it alone, Christina," I scold.

My fist pounds on the door to the shelter, it opens and I disappear inside. "Hello Eloise, I've got a new blanket for you and your granddaughter each."

A little girl no more than eight years stands before me, while an older woman, near the age my mother had been when she died, sits in a rocking chair. Eloise coughs into a rag in her hand between her muttered thanks.

Exiting Eloise's shelter, I am confronted by Christina's smile. I shake my head and walk by her. My free hand pulls up the collar of my jacket in an attempt to conceal the mark Tobias left on my neck. Blood rushes to my face as I recall our night of lovemaking. All of a sudden I feel overwhelmingly girly for calling it that, but that's exactly what it is—lovemaking.

"Tris please!" Christina wears the face that usually convinces me to concede. I eye both Amar and George, only a few feet away. I bothers me more that both of them know Tobias, particularly Amar, since he was Tobias' trainer and mentor.

"Not here." Christina follows my gaze on our two escorts.

She groans. "Oh this is going to kill me the whole day."

"I'm sure you've lived through worse."

She rolls her eyes at me. Leaning close she says, "at least tell me that you did it." I ignore her and deposit the remainder of the blankets at the next two shelters.

Returning to the truck for more supplies, I notice that although Christina and George follow, Amar is the only one that keeps in step with me. I reach for another stack of blankets, waving at Daniel, a former Abnegation member, as he takes inventory in the far end of the truck.

"So, how's our mutual friend?"

I stop to look at him. "If by mutual you mean Tobias, whom you haven't spoken to since everyone at the Bureau was reset, why don't you go ask him yourself?"

"I would but he isn't here, you are."

"You know, Matthew would call that a cop-out answer."

Amar says nothing so I take the stack of blankets and continue my rounds. I can sense Amar a step behind me. Christina and George have been engaged in conversation but they stop when I approach. I have no interest in their conversation, I'm too busy being annoyed at Amar now because I know that although Tobias doesn't voice it, he's felt like he's lost him all over again. I knock on the next shelter and hand its occupants several blankets. I turn around to see Amar in my face.

"I would go see him, but people don't take too kindly when you come back from the dead."

I tilt my head. "Strangely, I've seem to have done that a few times without a problem. Besides, Tobias knows what really happened to you, you should trust that he's accepted that." At that point I don't even know why I bother but something propels me to.

"I'm not referring to Tobias. I had a family back there too, ya know."

"We all have to face our demons." I skirt passed him and move on to another shelter.

His persistence continues and he puts his hand on my shoulder. I want to shrug it off but I don't. "Tris, please just tell him I've asked for him."

I look back at Amar and see a sadness in his eyes, it's something I empathize with. I let out a deep breath. "Fine, but you can't hide from the city for forever."

"Agreed and thank you Tris."

"You don't have to thank me."

"No I don't, but considering how good you are for him and how you've protected him while I was gone, I can't let that go unappreciated."

I'm about to say something back when I hear a giant roar; I feel the ground rumbling beneath my feet. The next thing I know is Amar pushing me down to the ground beneath him.


	9. Overwhelming sense of dread

**Tobias**

Zeke and I meet for our lunch break at a restaurant a few blocks away from Johanna's office. We see each other often since he now runs security, being that I'm Johanna's assistant, it doesn't give us much time to actually talk. Although I've worked closely with him for years, I'm still amazed watching him scarf down food. He's like a black hole, nothing seems to satiate him. He's finished his second hero sandwich when he comes up for air.

"I didn't want to mention this the other night, being that it was your housewarming and all, but I'm planning to ask Shauna to marry me."

"That's great Zeke, congratulations."

"Thanks, man. I'm not sure how long from now the wedding will be though. Matthew mentioned to Shauna about some procedure that might be able to help her walk again."

I've known Zeke long enough that I can tell that there's more. "What's the problem?"

"Well there are a lot of risks and potential complications that come with the procedure, you know me, I'm not big into that science stuff, but there's still a chance that she'll never walk again. I told her that I love her regardless and there's no need to put her life on the line. She hasn't been the same since she lost the use of her legs; I can tell she feels less Dauntless even though factions don't exist anymore, it's still a difficult mindset for her to let go." He falls silent, staring into his plate but not seeing the food. It seems like a long time before he speaks again. "Then she talked about having children. Matthew had her checked out by one of the Bureau doctors, and if she has the procedure, it will increase her chances of carrying a baby to term."

I take a sip of my glass, still holding it when I place it back on the table between us. "You love kids."

"I do. I just...I just want Shauna. A part of me wants to see her on her feet again. Call me a coward if you want, but the other part of me is afraid I'll lose her through this whole process."

I turn my drink around in my hand. What Zeke feels is something I relate to. When it comes to Tris, there have been many times where I felt conflicted between what would keep her safe and what she wanted to do. Although there were many times we each took countless risks, somehow we both came out standing. I don't know if I'd call it fate but I don't have another word for it.

I meet Zeke's eyes. "Sometimes you just have to let the person you love go after what they want, despite the risks."

He nods and looks back at his plate. I raise my glass to my lips. "So, when are you and Tris going to make it official?" I nearly spit out whatever contents are in my mouth. I'm choking when Zeke continues, "Four, man, I didn't mean to catch you so off guard with that question." It doesn't help that he's laughing.

I regain my composure after coughing a few times. "It's not that I haven't thought about it, I have a little. Things with Tris are finally starting to settle. We're in our new place, we have new responsibilities, and we're getting to know each other outside of all the mayhem a few months back. I haven't exactly talked to Tris about it and I don't want to rush into something she might not want."

"Oh, don't give me that crap. You two are made for each other. What's there not to rush into? Don't you want a little Tobias or Beatrice running around?"

My stomach leaps into my chest. Ultimately the next step after marriage is children. Marriage doesn't scare me but parenthood sends a feeling of dread through my body. What terrifies me most in not creating life, but destroying it. I'm afraid I'll be just like my father. I know I'd never hurt Tris and I can't imagine hurting our child, I just can't escape the idea that somehow I'll be just like _him_.

I've been staring into space. When I come out of my reverie, Zeke is snapping his fingers in my face, calling my name. My eyes focus on him and I say, "Sorry, I was just lost in thought."

His voice sounds anxious. "It doesn't matter, look at the screen." I follow his gaze as he turns to the television screen above the bar. On the screen is a broadcast; I don't hear what the reporter is saying, I read the caption. **Bombing in fringe**. The fringe. Tris is on a supply run at the fringe. Without thinking I'm on my feet. I bolt out of the restaurant, making my way to my truck. My heart is beating so fast. Tris has to be alright, she has to be.


	10. Persistence

**Tris**

The whole thing is a blur, only random snapshots stand out against the fog. I remember the sound of the rumbling and then seeing debris rain down after Amar pushed me face first into the muddy ground. I watch, pinned to the ground as people of the fringe run out of their shelters after some begin collapsing or go up in flames. I don't recognize the people's faces though and there's no way to know who lives and who dies. I don't know exactly where the explosion originated but from the destruction I gather that we are pretty darn close.

Amar pulls me up by the fabric of my jacket, I'm like a marionette in his hands. He's yelling at me, only I can't hear him. There's a ringing in my head and the sound of gunfire in the distance. I can tell by the look on his face he's frustrated and then he grabs my jacket again, this time pushing me forward to the Bureau truck. When I see the seal I'm reminded of George and Christina; they were only a few feet away from us, only now I can't seem to find either of them.

Amar opens the back of the truck and ushers me inside. However, he does not follow me in. "Tris, stay here. Don't you dare move. I'm going to look for George and Christina." His hand reaches back and he retrieves a handgun from the back of his pants waistband. "Take this and only fire when you need to." I take the gun. I don't even think about it. It remains in my hand as he closes the truck doors, sealing me inside.

It's quieter in the truck and I can finally hear my own thoughts. I take a seat on the floor in the middle of the truck, disregarding the benches on either side, I'll have better aim when the doors open this way. I look down at the gun. I've held one on several occasions since I killed Will, but this is the first time I didn't hesitate to hold one. That doesn't mean I'll be able to shoot it easily if at all. I place the gun down and relax the hand that was holding it. My body hurts all over but there is a peculiar numbness along my temple. I raise my fingers to it and they come away wet and sticky. Blood. Something must have cut me, debris maybe. But the blood doesn't concern me because there is another thought more present in my mind. Tobias. He's back in Chicago and doesn't know what's going on here. I want nothing more than to be in his arms. All I can think about now is that I'm alive and apart from the cut on my temple, I don't appear to have any other wounds. I just focus on the fact that somehow I've survived. For each time I come close to losing my life, the more I value it. I will survive this, I tell myself.

I hear the sound of the metal doors to the truck opening. Without thought, I have the gun raised in front of me. I see dark skin and short hair. Christina. I put the gun down and reach to help her. Amar is pushing her in and I meet his gaze over her shoulders. "Where's George?"

"Help her, I'm going back to get him." I grab hold of Christina, she's injured in her right leg. Amar closes the truck doors behind her.

Christina leans her body weight on me and I guide her to one of the benches. She sits down hard, like suddenly she's too heavy for her own body.

"Christina, are you alright? Is it just your leg?"

She smiles. "Hey, it had to be one of us. Since you were in the hospital last time, it's my turn now. Although it's not fair since you're bleeding too."

"I think you're losing blood and you're mind is feeling the effects."

"I think you may be onto something, but seriously Tobias will take one look at your cut and he won't let you out of his sight for a month if not more."

I roll my eyes at her. "We need to stop the bleeding in your leg." I tear off a piece of my own pants to create a tourniquet. "How is it out there?"

"Mayhem. Possibly even worse than the Factionless and Dauntless raid on Erudite. After the explosion, bullets started raining in and the Bureau soldiers starting firing back."

"Are we the intended target?"

"I-I don't know. So far I only know that you and I are still alive and from what I saw, the supply truck wasn't hit."

I nod because frankly, I don't know what else to do. Nothing can be done until everything settles outside or at least until Amar comes back, if he does.

Every time the truck doors open, Amar is pushing in someone other than George. The truck is filling up with Bureau guards and other member from our Chicago party. It feels like an eternity has passed until the doors finally open to reveal George, only this time, Amar is nowhere to be seen.

I see George's face is a bloody mess. I stand up, leaving Christina's side for the first time. "Where's Amar?"

George looks back and closes the doors behind himself. When he turns back to me, the look on his face is sullen. He isn't looking at me, his eyes don't see me.

"George," I say, "Where's Amar?"

He seems to snap out of it and his eyes focus on my face. "He was right behind me." He shakes his head. "I don't know."

"Sit down." I point to him the spot I occupied next to Christina. I pull the gun, the one Amar gave me, from the back of my jeans.

Christina leans forward, her hand snaking around my wrist. "Tris, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to get Amar."

"I'm going with you," says George.

I shake my head. "No. The whole reason he went back out there was to find you."

"And the whole reason you were in here first is because he wants to make sure you're safe," adds Christina.

I don't look at her. "George, you're hurt and Christina can't walk right now, I'm going out there and neither of you are going to stop me."

"Tris, don't do this, we've only just gotten you back," says Christina. I meet her gaze but I don't say anything back.

I think of Tobias and how he and Amar have unfinished business. I can't let another person that he cares about be taken from his life, especially after being reunited with him. I pull away from Christina, despite her strong grip. I open the doors and jump out.

The ground is soggy and there are chunks of metal and concrete strewn all over. The surrounding shelters are no longer recognizable. I look left and then right; there are bodies everywhere. But there are still people running in every direction. I hear gunfire in the distance. I try to follow the sound, stepping over the fallen, I try not to look at their faces.

Something grabs hold of my leg and I look down. Eloise's granddaughter is at my feet, her tiny hand curled around my ankle. I reach down. She's a tiny little thing and even though I'm small, I'm able to lift her with ease. She wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. I can't look for Amar with her hanging onto me, so I head back to the truck. When I get the doors open she refuses to let go. I remember her name. "Elsa, these nice people are going to keep you safe, okay." She shakes her head against my neck. "I need to go look for someone and it's not safe to take you with me."

"Grandma's dead." I recall suddenly that I've never heard her speak before. I wrap my arms around her, carefully, with the gun in one of my hands.

"I'll come back, I promise." I look into the truck to see George on his feet, ready to take the girl from me. I'm relieved when he does, even more so when he doesn't try to follow me out.

I resume my search for Amar. The influx of debris has created a smokey fog. It's hard to see but I keep moving. I see the dark silhouette of a figure in front of me; because of the debris cloud, I can't tell how far or close the figure is in relation to me. I have my gun raised and I aim. The silhouette grows larger in size but I have to squint my eyes more in order to prevent dust from getting to my eyes.

By now I can tell that the silhouetted figure is only a few feet in front of me. I take the gun off safety. I'm prepared to shoot, to disarm, or at least I think I am when the figure takes another step closer, close enough for me to see who it is. Amar. I lower my gun. I can barely see the color of his skin or his hair, even his clothes are covered in debris powder. I reach for Amar's arm.

"Come on, let's get you to the truck." He coughs and then nods. And together we make it to the truck.

Neither Amar or George are in any condition to drive. I'd offer but I haven't exactly driven as much, although Tobias is persistent that I learn, nor do I know the best way out of here. Luckily one of the other Bureau guards steps up. It's a bumpy ride as we make our way to where I can only assume is the Bureau since the back of the bulletproof truck has no windows. The entire ride I wonder just how I'm going to let Tobias know.


	11. Unwanted audience

**Tobias**

There is no use getting to the fringe. Road blocks are setup along the perimeter and all traffic is redirected to the Bureau. Almost every part of me wants to disregard the government and drive my truck into the fringe to find her myself, I know if I do so, I would have to be prepared for resistance. Problem is, I hadn't brought a gun. I have a spare stashed in mine and Tri's room and another at Johanna's office, both are of no use to me now. I make a mental note to keep one in my truck in the future.

I brush my fingers through my hair and let out a big exhale. At least I am being redirected to the Bureau; knowing it's director, Matthew, has advantages. He is my best chance in finding out about Tris.

Time ticks by. I make little progress. Hours later, when I finally get the Bureau building in my sight, I notice the influx of government trucks also returning.

I pull up to the gate and the attending guards look over my truck. One man comes up to the driver's side window; I roll it down.

"State your name and purpose," says the guard.

I roll my eyes. I know for a fact that there are few who don't know me, not because my name, but because they've been watching us for years. Even if this guard has been reset, it's not the first time I've pulled up to the gates and spoken to him.

"Tobias Eaton. I'm here to see Matthew."

"Is there a last name?"

"Oh, just take my damn picture and send it to him for verification already." I have no time or patience with niceties.

The guard doesn't show any surprise with my attitude, instead he points a device in my face that flashes. A moment later, he signals to the guards and the gates open.

After parking my car, guards, with guns held at their chests, escort me into the building. We're about to walk inside when I hear my name. I recognize the voice instantly and turn to see Tris running towards me. It's so fast that I don't have time to look her over. She jumps into my arms and I catch her, her face tucking into the place where my neck and shoulder meet. I hold her tightly against me.

For a quick moment I see behind Tris. George and Amar walk closely together with Christina a few feet away, limping, as they make the rest of the way towards where Tris and I are embracing.

"I'm so glad I found you here," she says, pulling her face away so that she can see me. "We were just going to check in with Matthew. Amar was going to bring me to you." She kisses me and I kiss her back before I release the anger that's been bubbling up inside me since I saw the broadcast.

I place her down, my hands remaining on her shoulders. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been? When we talked about you going into the fringe to bring in supplies, you assured me that the danger would be minimal. I'm sure you can imagine all the thoughts going around in my head."

Tris lifts her chin, defiantly. "Like I should have known that there would be a bombing today?"

I'm practically shaking her as I yell, but she doesn't pull away. "When is it going to be enough? We agreed to keep away from danger. That's why I took a desk job."

"Oh please! You're more Johanna's body guard than assistant, and you know it. The Bureau takes the proper precautions—"

"Precautions? Look at you. You're not even armed. I don't see a vest or a helmet. Again you seem to have a serious lack or regard for your life." I'm yelling beyond what's probably acceptable, even in my state, but I don't care.

"We knew there'd be risks. We talked about the possibilities in both of our jobs."

I disregard what she's saying, my anger and frustration take control over the conversation. "Seriously Tris, it's one thing to combat petty thieves and the homeless. But bombs? This is too much! When are you going to see? When you're pregnant and suddenly it's not only your life in danger, but our child's, will it be enough then?"

Tris pulls away then. "Pregnant? Tobias, where is this coming from?"

My hands fall to my sides and I look away. Where _is_ this coming from?

When I look back to Tris, her brows are furrowed and she's starring at me. I don't like the look on her face.

I sigh and run both of my hands through my hair. "Tris can we talk about this when we get back home?"

She crosses her arms over her chest. "No. We can talk about it right here, since you're the one who brought it up."

I know for a fact she's just as embarrassed as me but she's standing on principle.

I take in a deep breath and release it. I put out my hands, palms up, hoping she'll give me her's. She looks at my hands, my face, and then my hands again. Her brows are still furrowed. She doesn't give me her hands. I let mine drop to my sides. With my voice low I say, "I love you, Tris and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I never thought I'd find love and I didn't think I deserved it, sometimes I still don't. Being with you has changed everything. It's changed me, the way I think, the way I see things. You give me hope, hope that I can be a good man, maybe even a good father. I never thought I would have kids, I just didn't seem to be in the realm of possibility, but being with you has opened that door to me."

I see the features of her face soften as her eyebrows ease apart. "Tobias."

I shake my head. "I know that with everything that's happened, you have gained a regard for your life. I know you care about me and you would risk your life for mine but I want you to want us to have a future. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't know yet if you've gained a regard for our life together. I can't see that being possible if you don't figure it out for yourself." It pains me to say these things, even more because there's an audience. But Tris needs to hear them, if there is any hope for us to continue being together.

Looking at Tris, I see tears forming in her eyes. I turn away before my own tears leak out. My hands are in fists at my sides.


	12. Where do we go from here?

**Tris**

I stand here, stunned. I don't know what I expect, but Tobias leaving me here is not something I saw coming.

Tears are welling up, and despite all my efforts to keep them at bay, they roll onto my cheeks. I don't like to cry, even more I hate when other people can see.

I repeat the conversation in my mind, over and over again. I still don't understand it. I remember the promises we made and I recall making my case to Tobias, stating the reasons why I want to help the people of the fringe. They are my people, as much as the people of Chicago are, anyway. I may have, unknowingly, had the "luxury" of being raised in an experiment, but I had something the people living in the fringe didn't and still don't. I grew up with a stable roof over my head, constant food in my belly, good health, and an education. As I broke these down for Tobias, he seemed to understand and agree with what I felt I need to do. That is why his reaction to the day's events perplexes me so.

A bomb went off while I was in the fringe. Lives were lost and I am lucky that mine is not one of them. I get it, I do. However, what I don't get is where having children comes into it. Sure, I've thought about having a little Tobias around, with his dark hair and blue eyes, but neither of us has ever voiced such desires.

I continue to stare at the route he took to leave. I'm not sure how long I've continued to stand here but I jump at the touch of a hand resting on my shoulder. I react quickly enough, spinning to see Christina. She tries to smile but I can see that she's fighting her inner Candor, doing her best to keep inside her need to state the blatantly obvious- Tobias left me.

Finally she says, "Tris, you can come stay with me."

And that's when I break down. The full force of my tears are set free. I've lost control of my body as I throw myself into her arms, sobbing into her neck. I suddenly remember her wounded leg and begin to pull away but she wraps her arms around me and I'm grateful.

I can only imagine the display at the Bureau entrance as Christina rubs a hand over my back, telling me that everything will be okay. For the first time since I let my blood drip onto the coals, I'm not so sure.

I keep silent in the government van as Amar drives Christina and I back to Chicago. The tears have stopped, thankfully, but now there's a void.

Christina hasn't left my side, keeping me company in the back seat. George is prattling on about some history of city that he's recently learned; I suppose to he's doing so in an attempt to distract me. Nothing can distract me from the image of Tobias' backside as he walked away from me, from us.

I thought about having Amar take me to our house. We haven't even been living there a week. I'm afraid Tobias won't be there when I get back, and that's what keeps me away. If he's gone, at least I won't have to see it. I suppose it's good thing we've chosen such different jobs, the likelihood we'll encounter each other is slim, unless Johanna suddenly decides to take a stroll in the fringe. Something tells me that after today's bombing, the chances are even slimmer.

Although there are no road blocks leaving the Bureau, it feels like the ride back to Chicago is the longest ride of my life. George eventually fell asleep. Apparently he and Amar were already clocking in twelve hours before the bombing. The sun has long set when we finally reach the Dauntless compound, where Christina still lives, in her own apartment.

I follow Christina as we exit the van. "Have they considered changing the name yet? I mean, they can't keep calling it the Dauntless compound if the factions are no more," I say.

"I suppose the name has only stayed due to sentiment. I've heard the Council will present new names for all the headquarters and that we might get to vote on them. Tobias might know more since he's Johanna's assistant." She immediately covers her mouth once she realizes she's talked about the one person who's name I'd rather not hear right now. "I'm sorry Tris."

I shrug my shoulders.

Amar has also exited the car and has walked around to us. "Sorry to just drop you off and go."

"It's alright. We appreciate the fact that you brought us all the way here on your off-duty time."

"It was the least I could do after your supply truck was destroyed." I can't believe that after the conversation with Tobias, I'd forgotten that our truck had been riddled with bullets, killing Daniel inside. I hadn't stopped to ask what would happen to him, what would happen to his body? Did he have any family? This realization brings to light just how selfish I've been today.

Christina speaks up. "Thank you. We know you probably won't be allowed to tell us who caused the bombing, but would you tell Matthew that we'd like to speak to him?"

"And for an update on Elsa," I add.

Amar nods. "I will talk to him and I'll do what I can. Just consider postponing your supply runs for now."

"Without a truck, it's safe to say it will be awhile. It's not like we have an unlimited supply. The old factories just reopened."

Suddenly we hear the honk of the van's horn. All three of us look over to see George, sleepy eyed, pointing to his watch.

"You should go," I say.

Amar's eyes land on me again. "I remember what you said earlier. I will make the effort to talk to him." I nod. Despite how confused I am over the conversation with Tobias, I still know that Amar is important to him and that is important to me.

Amar turns away and Christina and I watch as the government van takes off. She throws her arm over my shoulder.

"C'mon roomie."

I smile but it doesn't reach my eyes. I let Christina pull me into the compound.

 **Tobias**

I know I shouldn't have blown up in such a public setting. Being there, with the Christina, Amar, and George watching, seemed to help me stand my ground. I used to care what others thought about me. Keeping my deepest, truest self was something was ingrained into me by my Abnegation upbringing. I chose to overcome those habits when I confessed my feelings to Tris. I had my own issues though, unused to sharing every aspect of my life and learning to control my temper. But I'm conscious of those things and that's why this thing is so frustrating; I just don't know if she does what she wants in regard to only herself or she just doesn't see how her actions affect the people around her and the relationship she has with them.

I force my feet to take me to my truck. I can't look back. The words alone were painful. The only thing that keeps me from looking back is knowing that we need this. I didn't know that until my feeling were spilling out of my mouth. Although I wouldn't change a single thing since Tris woke up in the Bureau infirmary, looking back, it was too good to be true. As much as I have things to work through for myself, Tris' biggest problem is committing to us, to our future.

When I reach my truck, I don't think, I just drive. Instincts take me back home, the house Tris and I share. When I realize it I break to a stop. I can't go there. I can't face Tris. If that makes me a coward, then so be it. I am afraid to face her.

I rest my forehead on the steering wheel between my hands. I used to think that emotions were my only weaknesses, emotions and my four fears. As long as no one knew my fears I would be safe, hidden behind a wall I constructed as a child, only growing more structurally sound with age. I hadn't realized it then, the day I reached out for Tris' hand after she jumped, the foundations erecting my wall began to weaken. As my interactions with Tris became more frequent, it was as if a hammer and chisel worked continuously, chipping away the wall around my heart.

My feelings for Tris surprised me, especially since I tried to deny them at first. I hid from them and I thought I'd kept them hidden until the night I was drinking in the Pit and uttered the words 'Tris, you look good'. There was no going back and even after I woke up the following morning, mortified, I found that I was glad she knew; I was tired of hiding.

As much as I know I shouldn't hide now, the reality is that I basically told Tris I can't be with her unless she changes. I don't want to change Tris. But if she doesn't change for herself, I know she'll never be fully committed to me. And although I've never loved anyone like I love Tris, I can't be the only one giving completely to our relationship. I can't face her and my heart feels like it's being squeezed in a vise-like grip. My hands tighten around the steering wheel to the point the skin covering my knuckles is white.

My grip on the steering wheel loosens and I slowly pick up my head. I'm looking out at the stretch of road leading home. After a moment, I take my foot off the break and make a U-turn, heading towards the center of the city.

Zeke plops down on the couch next to me. With a beer in each hand, he hands one to me. I don't think drinking will help, I take it anyway, reluctantly.

"Man, I thought I had problems."

"You're not helping," I growl, my lips hovering over the the edge of the can.

"You thought coming here would?" I shake my head. "I'm sorry man, but making light of the situation is what I do."

"I know." I take a swig of beer, the taste is bitter, I welcome it. "Where's Shauna?"

"She went to the Dauntless compound to see Christina and..." He tails off.

"And?"

I watch as he takes a big gulp of beer. Out of the corner of his mouth he says, "Tris."

So, Tris didn't go _home_ either. I purse my lips then take another sip of my beer.


	13. Imaginations run wild

**Tobias**

I roll onto my back and stretch, my body aching from the stiff couch. Zeke gave me and extra blanket but I still feel cold, missing the warmth of Tris' body next to mine. Instinctively, I reach out, only to find the edge of the couch. This is hopeless, _I'm_ hopeless. I may not be abusive like my father but I can't manage to keep happy the woman I love. It's taking every bit of will power not to get up and rush to my truck and drive to the Dauntless compound. I can just imagine Christina yelling at me as I barge into her apartment, demanding to see Tris. I shake my head; already knowing how much of a disaster that will turn out to be.

In attempt to distract myself, I push off Zeke's couch, it'll be time for work soon enough. My bare feet pad against the tile.

Zeke's bedroom door is open, by open I mean by a crack. I reach out and slowly push the door the rest of the way. "Rise and shine," I call out. Zeke's laying sprawled face down on the bed, tangled in the sheet. For some reason, I picture him practically mauling Shauna in her sleep. I don't know how she puts up with him.

He hasn't budged. I take the liberty to burst into the room, the sunlight creeping in through the cream colored curtains. I walk over to the night table next to the bed, closest to Zeke, and bend over. My hands start to drum on the flat surface of the table and I yell. "Train coming! Zeke, run! Run! Run!"

Zeke snaps awake, his dark hair in a nest around his head. He takes one look at me and curses, face planting back onto the mattress with a groan. I rustle his hair.

"C'mon buddy, time to wake up."

"Why did I ever invite you over?" He asks through gritted teeth.

I'm already leaving his room when I say, "Somebody needs to be the responsible one." I don't like how relevant my comment is to my feelings about Tris.

The office is fairly quiet for the greater portion of the morning. Johanna is conducting a conference with Matthew on the video screen hanging on her office wall. I stand to her right, looking at Matthew sitting in his office in the Bureau compound.

"What do you believe is the motive behind the bombing?" asks Johanna.

"We've been going over the data from the wreckage. So far there's nothing significant to pinpoint a particular group. There's been activity in the fringe for years, but nothing on this scale for a long time. My people and I suspect that the attack is the first of many."

I jump in. "What led you to that conclusion? I thought you just said there is no evidence to pin this on a single group. How do you know this isn't a singular event?"

"There have been threats made, although nothing indicates a time or place for future attacks," replies Matthew.

"Are you certain that the attack wasn't directed to our members handing out supplies in the fringe when the bombing occurred?" Johanna's gaze slides to me. This is her conference, she wants me to stop interjecting but being rude is not her style.

Matthew sighs. "We can't be sure. After all, my men were there as well."

"What about the casings of the bullets found at the scene. Who could be carrying those weapons?"

Johanna steps in front of me. "Matthew, thank you for you time. I have every confidence that you and your people will get to the bottom of this. I have a meeting with my colleagues. Contact my direct line if you have any additional information."

I watch Matthew nod through the screen."My pleasure. I'll be sure to keep you updated."

Johanna terminates the transmission.

She whirls on me. "Tobias Eaton, what was that?"

"Do not talk to me like a child. You may have been one of the leaders of Amity, but there are no factions anymore."

"I'm still your superior."

"You asked me to be your assistant for a reason."

"Yes, because I recognized that you were one of the few non-Amity born members of this city that did not allow his emotions to make the better of him. I'm not so sure that you are still capable."

"I'm fine. The questions I asked were completely logical."

She brushes the hair away from her face, exposing her scar. "I understand that you and Matthew have a friendship, but in my office you are my assistant. Keep your private business for your off hours."

"I told you I'm fine."

Johanna rolls her eyes. I would like your presence at the meeting, if you think that you can contain yourself."

I nod. Johanna grabs her briefcase and I follow her out in silence.

In attempt to advert any violent action toward the council members, the Council meetings are conducted in different places to ensure that only the members and their immediate staff are aware. Today we meet in the Hub. Zeke, along with several other security members, escort us safely into the building. We take the elevators up to a large office. Our party is the last to arrive. I follow Johanna towards our seats. My eyes sweep over the room.

Zeke comes up next to me, nudging my shoulder. "Old habits die hard?"

I ignore him. Something seems off. Perhaps it's the conversation with Matthew making me feel on edge. I don't shrug the feeling away, choosing to remain cautious.

I pull out my chair while another council member stands, a man with a full head of hair and tattoos peaking from beneath his sleeves. "Now that the last of our group has arrived, The Council of Chicago is now in session."

He's barely finished speaking when I hear the explosion. Instinctively, I throw myself over Johanna. I feel debris raining down on my back and heat, lots of heat.

 **Tris**

I hold the needle in my hands. The program is already set, now all I have to do is inject myself.

I haven't gone into my fear landscape since the initiation ceremony, and after the events that followed, I never thought I'd be back in this room. I'm not sure what exactly has driven me up here. I tell myself that I'm bored but I know that isn't true. Tobias' words still sting. Tobias has changed since the day we met, I can see it as clear as day. Have I changed? For better or for worse. I think back to my life before the choosing ceremony. I was a shy, timid girl; at least that is what I projected to my family and everyone else. Inside I was hiding, a ticking bomb, ready to explode. And then I chose Dauntless, embracing the adrenaline rush, trying to fit in. But it didn't have to try. Being a Dauntless initiate brought out a ferocity from within me, as well as many other things. Bravery. Strength. Pride. Cunning. Selflessness. Things I never knew I had during my life in Abnegation.

I'm not the person I was then, I know that now. I've done so much changing. A part of me thinks that I can not change anymore.

Have I changed since the Dauntless initiation? I twist the needle in my hands. I suppose there's only one way to tell.

I push the needle into my neck, my thumb pressing the plunger. I close my eyes, letting the simulation take me.

The crows flock around me. I'm still afraid of powerlessness. But I don't react as I have before. I hold back from changing anything. Riding the simulation as it presents itself, I decide to face my fears head on. I let the birds swarm me, bringing me into my next fear.

I'm in the tank, the water filling up more rapidly than I've ever experienced before. I'm still afraid of weakness. I let the water submerge me before breaking the glass.

Instead of crashing onto the floor, I crash into a rock, the salt of the ocean water burning my eyes. The waves are strong, knocking me in different directions. I succumb to the will of the ocean, losing control, I'm pulled away from the rock.

I'm tied to the pole next, except Peter isn't the one lighting the fire now. Marcus holds a torch in his hands. Christina, Zeke, Cara, Caleb, Matthew, Shauna, Amar, and George all stand behind him. Tobias is nowhere to be seen. I curse at Marcus, I can't help it. I demand to know what he's done to Tobias. Marcus ignores me and lowers the torch. In an instant, flames lick my legs. I can feel my skin boiling. I don't kick, I don't scream. I let the flames consume me, needing to move on.

I'm surprised when I'm not in my old Abnegation house next. Instead I open my eyes to the Bureau vault. I'm on my knees. David stands over me. He holds a gun in his hand, the barrel pointing towards me. There's movement behind him. From the corner of my eye I see Caleb come into view. "No!" I warn him away. David is too fast and he grabs Caleb, bringing the gun around, pressing the barrel into Caleb's neck. I beg him to let Caleb go. The bullet clicks into the chamber and I spring. My hands wrap around the gun and I hear it go off. It's too dark to see who is hit. Caleb drops to the floor and I fall with him.

There is a bright, blinding light. My eyes take a moment to adjust. I look up and finally I see Tobias. I almost expect there to be a bed behind us but I'm not afraid of being intimate with him, so I'm not surprised to see we aren't in a bedroom. We're in a room that is foreign to me, all white, sterile looking. I sit on a examination table. I think that maybe, somehow, we're back in the Euridite headquarters, Jeanine still testing on me. The door behind Tobias opens and a woman walks in wearing a white lab coat. I stiffen. She walks over to me, smiling. "The test results came in," she says. My palms are sweaty and I wipe them on my thighs. "I have some wonderful news." I look from her to Tobias; he's smiling too. My eyebrows draw together. I look back at the woman in the white coat. "Tris, you're pregnant."

I pull out of the simulation, gasping. I push the hair from my face, sweat has caused it to cling everywhere. My breaths are coming in short bursts. My fear landscape has changed. I shake my head. My hands fall to my belly. Is this what I'm afraid of now?

The door opens and I turn to see Christina bursting through.

"Tris!"

"What is it?"

"We need to leave, quickly. Another bomb went off, here in the city. Tobias has been hurt." She doesn't have to say more. I'm up and running past her, not waiting for her to catch up.


	14. Role-reversal

**Tris**

The influx of the injured has caused chaos in the hospital. Beds are being pushed in every direction. I barely stop, only to ask directions and even then I'm rushing past the nurse or orderly, delving deeper into the mayhem.

Christina calls my name from behind. I ignore it. She'll catch up.

When I reach the emergency area, the room is filled with beds as far as I can see. I scan the beds closest to me. In some areas curtains are drawn, concealing their occupants. I move to check behind them when a woman in blue scrubs steps in front of me, effectively cutting me off.

"Excuse me, you can't just walk in here."

"I'm looking for someone injured in the bombing."

"As you can see, we're dealing with a lot right now. You can step back and wait until someone has time to speak with you. Are you a family member?"

"We were contacted by the hospital." Christina seems to manifest next to me. "The person we're looking for is the assistant of one of the council members."

Without making eye contact with me the nurse clears her throat and picks up a clipboard. "Name please." She keeps her eyes on the clipboard and I'm tempted to just grab it from her and look myself; I can just imagine the scene that would cause. This isn't the time or place to lose my cool.

I speak up. "Tobias Eaton."

The nurse scans her clipboard; I can't see what's written on it. I assume it to be a list.

Finally she looks back up at me. "He's in surgery."

"For what?" I can't help the high pitch of my voice. My heart is beating even faster in my chest. How badly was he hurt?

"Are either of you family members?"

"Not exactly, no—"

"If you're not family then I'm bound by doctor/patient confidentiality."

"I—."

The nurse cuts me off again. "I've already told you more than I should. Now, as you can see we have a lot going on here. Please return to the waiting room."

I almost can't remember the last time I let someone shut me down. I don't like it but for some reason I don't speak up.

The nurse turns away.

Christina is calling after her, yelling really, and all I'm doing is standing there.

"What a bitch," utters Christina under her breath. "Don't worry, I'll get her to talk." Christina pulls from my grasp, rolling up her sleeves."

I'm about to pull her back and tell her it's not a good idea when someone steps in front of her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," says Zeke.

Christina and I both look up at him in surprise. He's attached via an IV to a poll on wheels and he wears a gown like the other patients, the ties hang loose at his sides. I can only imagine the people behind him are getting quite a view. Apart from a bandage on his head, Zeke looks otherwise unharmed.

"What are you doing out of bed?" demands Christina.

"I heard a commotion, not surprised that it was coming from the two of you." He pauses. "You know, they keep giving me pudding. Do you think that nurse knows where I can get more?"

Christina clears her throat. "We were trying to find out about Tobias but that nurse only said he's in surgery."

Zeke looks down at his feet.

"What do you know?" I ask.

His eyes slowly rise to meet mine. "He covered Johanna when the first bomb went off. Then he came to get me and secured our exit out. The second bomb went off before he could get to safety."

My heart sank into my chest.

Zeke continues. "I don't know the extent of his injuries. We were brought here separately and then they took him straight up to operate."

"Is there any way you could find out?" asks Christina when I couldn't.

He turns in the direction the nurse went, finding her, he casually steps over, his IV in tow and speaks quietly with her. Under different circumstances either Christina or myself would comment on the fact that Zeke's rear end is exposed to the whole hospital, but this isn't the time or the place. The nurse looks at both Christina and me and then flips through her chart. The nurse lets out an aggravated breath and then walks back toward us.

She doesn't say anything.

"I know I'm not family, but I am the closest to family he has. I'm his girlfriend." My voice sounds broken. "We live together."

The nurse purses her lips and narrows her eyes. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Christina elbow Zeke in the side and mutter, "How do you do it?"

My attention quickly snaps back to the nurse. "He sustained severe burns along his back and arms. Debris punctured one of his lungs."

My heart stops and my breath catches. I reach for Christina's hand, squeezing tightly.

It's always been me. I'm always the one getting into danger and getting hurt. Tobias is strong and smart. I don't even know how to process what the nurse is telling me. I've stopped listening. All I can think about is that it's possible I'll never see him again. I've been careless with him, with us. And I've taken for granted the time we've had together.

I feel the tears spilling down my face. Christina pulls me into her arms and I sob into her neck. I feel another hand gently rest on my back. Zeke. At least I am surrounded by friends.

"Thank you," she says to the nurse. I barely hear the exchange, too consumed with my grief.

"Have a seat and I'll come get you when there's more news."


	15. Breathless

**Tobias**

Pain. Throbbing pain. That's all I know. I can't see, I can only feel.

I reach out next to me; nothing but cold dark nothingness. Tris. She's gone. I'm all alone.

I've managed to ruin the only good thing that's happened to me. I lost my temper. I may not have acted through violence, but I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I let my anger rule me. On way or another I have inherited my father's rage. It seems just as fitting.

The only thing I have left is the pain. I hurt everywhere. My flesh on my back has been burned off. It's as if someone is taking a hot poker to every inch of me, concentrating on the middle of my back and higher, just below my hairline. I hurt so much that I'm practically numb, except for my chest, the pain there is excruciating above all else. I can't escape the wheezy crushed sensation of my left lung. And it's only getting worse.

I don't recall how I got this way but as I try to struggle, the more constricted I become. I'm able to see for only an instant and even then I am blinded by a bright white light. Is that it then? Am I dying? Is this what it's like to die? I don't want to go. It's not my time yet. Or is it? I've endured too much to go out like this.

I suffered during my childhood. I was not allowed to be myself. I had to be what my father wanted me to be and when he wasn't happy with that he beat me and my mother. My mother had to fake her own death to get away from him. I thought she was dead all that time and her death weighed heavily on me. It was my fault. She couldn't bare to go on and her only option was to take her life. I did the only thing I thought I could do. I endured the initiation in Dauntless in order to get away from my past but even then it was impossible to be happy, to be myself. I constantly had to worry about discovery. I was only Dauntless because I felt it was the only way to be free of my father. To add to it, I had to hide that I was Divergent as well. I was coasting, living each day like it was no different from the last.

Then finally fate decided to grant me one reprieve. I saw a blur of gray drop into the net. To my surprise the first jumper, transfer Dauntless initiate, happened to be a stiff. Not just a stiff though, a girl stiff. Not since the day of my Choosing ceremony had an Abnegation transferred to Dauntless. When I tugged on that net, I had to call on my strongest of reserves to hide my own surprise. Then she gave me her name, Tris. Each day after that I practically had to tear my eyes off of her. She continued to surprise me in so many ways; her determination, her bravery, her fearlessness, her selflessness, and more. She captivated me. I finally thought that I could live for something, for her. When I took her into my fear landscape, I wondered if maybe just maybe I could be my true self with her, that I wouldn't have to hide anymore.

And then the simulation set on by Erudite turned our world upside down. But we survived that together. Even being homeless and practically factionless, I could see a way for us to live. I soon almost lost Tris in the process. The night she left me to surrender to Erudite, I felt betrayed by Tris. I went after her anyway only for her to be executed. Any hope I had seemed to slip from under my fingertips. My heart felt like it was going to explode when Peter, Caleb, and Tris showed up to break me from my cell. We continued to fight together, against Jeanine, for the good of all the Dauntless wronged by her, for the good of all the factions. I almost lost Tris again, due to my own flaws. I had kept my life a secret for so long that it was hard to open up so quickly. We got past it, sure, but it was a notch in the tether of our relationship that was unraveling. But that wasn't the end.

Our world was torn apart again by that video, the one with Edith Prior. The knowledge that we were in fact not alone out there changed everything. I couldn't set aside my own curiosity, the same as Tris. I was just as determined to see it through. To find out that my life, that the life of everyone living in the city, was nothing more than an experiment, a failed one at that, made our lives feel pointless. I always thought that I had some control over my own fate; choosing my faction, my friends, my girlfriend; none of it was ever really in my control. And then the business of my genetic makeup—defected, as they called it. Even though I had hidden my divergence in the city, it didn't mean that I hated it. I had felt special, extraordinary even. The Bureau had taken that away from me. It was another thing that separated me from Tris. By my own default, I let someone manipulate me, just so that I could feel like I had some semblance of control and that turned out to be an even bigger mess. Tris looked at me with disgust. But I will never be able to forget the irreparable damage I caused. I hurt Uriah, he died because of my actions. And although Tris forgave me, I hated myself. Sometimes I still do.

I wanted nothing more than to be done with the madness. We would once again put our lives on the line to do so. I hated being separated from Tris, not because I felt I needed to be her guardian- to make sure she didn't do something stupid- but because I had a gut wrenching feeling that something was going to go gravely wrong. And it did. Tris almost died. She was in a coma for days. Those days were torturous. The glimmer of the life we could have flickered away. I swore I would do anything to keep that life the moment she called out my name and opened her eyes. But I screwed it up for the both of us. I pushed her away, afraid that her actions would take away the life I saw dangled in front of me. I wanted to snatch it away before she or anyone could do it for me. My father always said I did it to myself and maybe all this time he was actually speaking the truth. It's well enough that this is the result.

It hurts so much to breathe. What would happen if I just stopped?


	16. Waiting

**Tris**

What seems like hours later, the nurse finally returns, giving me a room number. I don't know in what condition I'll find Tobias when I walk into room. Thankfully Christina is with me. I grab her hand so tightly at the sight of Tobias in the hospital bed. He is laying supine with his arms, neck, and face the only parts of him exposed. I run to his side to get a better look, towing Christina with me. Up close I can see that his face is riddled with scratches and bruises. I reach out my hand, the one not keeping a vise-like grip on Christina, and with a feather-light touch, I run them along Tobias' face, careful of the scratches.

"The anesthetic drugs should have worn off by now. Now it's up to him."

I turn to see a woman in blue scrubs, a different nurse from the one in the Emergency Room. "And his lung?" I manage to ask, my voice croaking on the word 'lung'.

"He was on ventilation while the surgeon repaired the hole in his lung from a piece of debris from the bombing. He's off it now. His vitals are otherwise fine. If he doesn't wake up soon, we'll consider a feeding tube."

I turn back to Tobias and with releasing Christina's hand, I take his in both of mine. _Come on, wake up_.

Tobias has a private room with a window. The sun has long since gone down, all I can see is darkness through them.

I'm sitting in a chair next to Tobias' bedside. Christina has gone to get us some coffee. It's been several hours since we came to the room without change in Tobias' condition. The nurses came to kick us out when visiting hours were over, I went into a rage and Christina had to hold me back. Then a man in a suit came, claiming to be a representative for Johanna and spoke to the nurses. We were left alone after that.

I hear footsteps behind me, they do not belong to Christina. I see blue scrubs out of the corner of my eye as the figure comes around to the other side of Tobias' bed. I brush hairs from his forehead.

The nurse is checking the equipment when I finally look up at her.

"One of the nurses mentioned he has severe burns on his back. How can he lay down on his back like this if it's so bad?"

She glances over at me. "Because of his lung, it is impossible to have him lie prone or on his side. Although the superficial layer of his skin has extensively burned, with applying a particular ointment it may help prevent scarring and help the healing process."

"And has the ointment been applied?"

"Yes. He'll need to be cleaned and the ointment replied multiple times a day. I will do that when I've finished checking his vitals."

I nod and let my gaze drop back to Tobias.

Shortly after more nurses arrive and I'm asked to leave the room while they attend to Tobias. I'm not particularly happy about it but I know that Tobias would not appreciate the scene. I need a change of scenery anyway and to find Christina, who's been gone a bit too long by now.

The air outside the hospital is refreshing yet oddly stifling. Being away from Tobias like this is making me feel uneasy. I want to comfort him, to tell him I love him and that everything will be okay. But he's unconscious and if I'm honest with myself, I can't assure that everything will be okay.

"You look like you could use a drink."

I turn to see a young man leaning against the wall, a flask in hand.

"Excuse me?"

"Someone special in there?" he nods to indicate the inside of the hospital.

"Yeah," I respond, barely looking at him.

"This helps," he stretches out his hand towards me, the flask shinning in the lamplight.

"I'm alright, thanks." The last thing I need is a clouded mind.

Deciding I've had enough of the outside, I head back into the hospital. I make a b-line for the emergency room to seek out my friends.

I hear Zeke's laughter almost instantly. Things have quieted down here, surprisingly. I don't exactly know what to say when I notice Zeke in the center of huddle of women in blue and teal scrubs. Christina's tiny form is sandwiched in between them. As I get closer I can see someone has managed to give Zeke a deck of cards and he is attempting some fancy tricks, apparently having the nurses mystified.

"Where's Shauna?" I say when I'm behind Christina.

She jumps and spins around. She holds two coffee cups in her hands, steam not visible on account they've probably long gone cold. "Tris! Hey, I thought'd I'd check on Zeke. Shauna called. There's some news, but I'll let Zeke tell you."

Christina then proceeds to shoo all the nurses away, proposing that they have more important things to do. Zeke is no longer hooked up to the IV but he's still got his gown untied, thankfully he is sitting down.

"Oh, c'mon Chris, I was just going to woo them with my new skills."

"You're lucky Shauna isn't here. Now, tell Tris the news."

"Well evidently I have a concussion and they want to keep me for overnight observation."

Christina proceeds to hit him on his arm. "Not that, you idiot."

"Ow. Fine. You know you shouldn't hit a concussed person, it's not nice." He looks up at me, a big smile appearing on his face. "Shauna's pregnant."

"Oh Zeke, that's great." Somehow the level of my enthusiasm hasn't reached my voiced as I intended.

"She wanted to come and tell me in person, but I insisted she stay home."

I smile but it doesn't reach my eyes.

"How is he?" Zeke asks.

I sigh. "Still asleep. The nurses are cleaning him and applying some ointment to help his back."

Zeke cringes. "It was awful. I don't mean to freak you out Tris, but he was on fire." I close my eyes and I can picture it with perfect clarity. My eyes snap open, cutting off the vision.

"I wonder about his tattoos." Christina adds and I glare at her. "Sorry, it's just I know that it's special to him, even if you're the only one who's really seen it."

I pinch the bridge of my nose and release it after a moment. "I'm going back upstairs. The nurses should be done now. Are you coming?"

Christina hands me a cup of coffee. "I'll meet you up there in a bit. Hana is coming and I said I'd be here when she got here." I nod. I haven't seen Zeke's mother for a while.

When I get back to Tobias' room I am subsequently frozen in place. I don't realize I've dropped the cup of room-temperature coffee until I feel it splatter onto my jeans.

Standing at Tobias' beside is a figure. Even from behind I would recognize the man anywhere. I feel the sting on my wrist from the belt as if I'm back in Four's landscape, just before I realize his true identity.


	17. From the depths

**Tris**

Marcus slowly looks over his left shoulder at me; he is not startled by the sound of my coffee cup hitting the linoleum. His eyebrows raise, a gesture so similar to Tobias' that my skin crawls to associate the the same expression on the faces of two completely different people.

He turns fully towards me. "Ah, Miss Prior."

My eyes scan over him, noticing that he holds Tobias' chart in his hands. He closes it while maintaining eye contact with me.

"Marcus." I bark out his name.

"You look... rather collected considering it's my son lying in a hospital bed this time and not you."

My eyebrows draw together. What could he possibly mean by that? "How did you know he was here?"

"I still have friends in high places."

My eyes narrow. Despite having worked with him in the past, I'm less inclined to tolerate his presence now since it's no longer necessary. I hate this man for what he's done and for the person he is. Tobias wouldn't want him here and that's enough for me. I could cause a scene but that wouldn't help Tobias' recovery regardless of the fact that he remains unconscious.

We're having a stare down of sorts. I don't know his motives for coming here; he never struck me with concern over Tobias' well being before. My eyes slide to Tobias. There still appears to be no change in his condition.

"I'm not your enemy, girl."

My gaze snaps back to Marcus. "What do you want with us?"

He reaches into his jacket pocket and I take a step back, quickly scanning the room for anything I can use as a weapon. To my surprise, Marcus retrieves a folded piece of paper. However, I don't let my body relax.

"I have some information that a person with your talents and thirst for the truth might find useful."

"And why haven't you shared it with some of your friends in high places?"

"Whether I like it or not, you get things done, particularly when there is something personal at stake in it for you."

Now my own eyebrows draw together. I don't like how cryptic this conversation remains.

Marcus holds out the paper to me. I'm reluctant to take it.

"By all means, ignore it, although I don't think you will once you see what's on it." His salt and pepper hair is sitting out from beneath his ears, unlike the customary short Abnegation look I'm accustomed to him donning. He's clearly let it grow since the end of the factions.

I reach out to take the paper but then Marcus turns and places it down on the bed next to Tobias. I watch as he returns the chart to its rightful place at the foot of the bed and leaves the room without another word. My legs are frozen in place. I've never felt so out of control around Tobias' father; I've always let my anger guide me. I shake my head and walk over to the bed. Carefully I lift the paper, looking over my shoulder to make he hasn't lingered. Once I discern it's safe, I unfold the paper. It is a photograph from a security camera, the date and time as well as the location are stamped on the bottom of the page, taken this morning in front of the Hancock building. I gasp as I recognize the image of the person captured in the image.

I drop the picture and turn to the door. I'm running down the hall, ignoring the calls from the hospital staff, telling me to slow down. I practically run right into Christina. Our bodies collide, sending us stumbling backward from each other.

"Tris?"

I don't waste time, she's just the person I was looking for. I grab her hand and haul her back to Tobias' room.

She's rubbing her head, I don't even acknowledge my own hurts at the moment, figuring that I'll see the bruises soon enough.

"What's going on?"

"You need to see something."

"Is Tobias—"

"No."

We turn into the room, it's exactly as I left it moments ago. The picture remains on the floor. I step ahead of Christina and scoop it from the floor. I see the questioning look and immediately deposit the photograph into her hands. I see Christina's eyes widen.

"Uriah? No way."

"Way." I say.

"You don't think the photo is doctored, do you?"

"I don't know for sure, but something tells me it's likely not."

"What's he carrying?"

I lean over to look at the photograph with her. In the image, Uriah is carrying a black bag. "According to the time stamp it was before the bombs went off."

"You don't think—"

"I don't know. But I'm not mentioning this to Zeke until we know for sure that it is Uriah and what he's doing. I need to get Matthew on the phone."


	18. Shades of gray

**Tobias**

I hear my father's voice.

I open my eyes to the dreary gray of my bedroom. The ceiling is gray, the walls are gray, the furniture is gray, even my clothes are gray. I live in a world of gray, lacking all color. Time passes with little measure. I'm just going through the motions at this point.

With an exaggerated exhale, I roll from the bed. The carpet is gray too. I shake my head. Upon opening my closet, I'm left to contemplate my wardrobe choices; not many. The articles of clothing hanging before me are more or less variations of the same, much like my day to day life. I don't know why I bother anymore. Reaching out without looking, I make my choice. I wished I'd had the guts to do that on the day of my Choosing Ceremony.

Today marks two years to the day since I stood before my peers of their respective factions, my hand bloody after slicing it with the blade. I'd had a plan, I was going to leave Abnegation. I made the mistake of looking at my father as my hand hovered over the bowl with the coals. His gaze met mine waveringly. My eyes were locked with his. If only I'd had the power to close them, maybe it would have turned out differently. Instead, I slid my hand over and my blood dripped over the gray stones. The name of Abnegation faction was called out. My choice had been made, I couldn't take it back. My father nodded. I was finally able to drop my gaze. I had been a coward.

Initiation was even worse. At least before the Choosing Ceremony I could hope to escape my father for the greater part of the day while I was at school. However, being that my father is one of the Abnegation leaders, it meant that his presence would be a constant during the time of my initiation. He was even harder on me, always using me as an example and beating me when I didn't volunteer to make selfless acts before my peers. He was good at hitting me in places where my gray clothes hid them, not that the standard Abnegation dress code left much for show.

I survived initiation, thankfully, otherwise I wouldn't still be here. Unfortunately, in Abnegation, I'm stuck with my father a while longer. New members of the faction are not eligible for single housing. Only after I've found a woman willing to give herself to me and our faction, can we together petition the leaders for housing. I'm not looking though. Sometimes I think my father will never let me go, even if I did find someone.

I took a job with at the service center, entry level, really. Typically, I catalog shipments of the supplies from Amity that we will then divvy up between Abnegation and the factionless. I spend a lot of time with numbers and charts, I tend to enjoy it, sometimes anyway. With the coming Choosing Ceremony my job will change for a period of time. I look forward to the break in the everyday routine. I will be responsible for placement and supervision of the new initiates during their initiation. This is the second year I've taken this on. Although, for the most part I end up being in my father's presence more than I'd like, it gives me the opportunity to help others; I like to think that there are others like me, stuck in this faction and trying to make the best of it. The coming initiates will have to prove their selflessness through various tasks. This is not something that comes easy for many, despite being brought up in this faction. Abnegation also gets the least amount of transfers among all five factions.

Today I will meet the new initiates, transfers and Abnegation-born alike and assign them their first tasks.

At first I decide that I won't watch the Choosing Ceremony, I haven't been back in the building since my choosing. However as I leave my father's house on this morning, my feet seem to carry me there. Although the point of our dress is to blend in and to virtually be indistinguishable among the other members of the faction, as I approach the doors of the Hub, I am easily recognized as Marcus Eaton's son; his pride and joy. I am ushered inside only to be directly to a seat next to my father. We remain standing while the rest of the auditorium fills in.

"Tobias," he says.

"Father."

"I didn't think you would come."

"I thought that my presence here would show the Erudite that their words are only that, words." In truth, I want to yell it to the entire congregation, declaring that what the Erudite say is true, that my father beats me. Instead I purse my lips and clasp my hands behind my back.

"Allegations is what they are. But yes, that was a wise decision. We cannot let them believe that such rumors have president."

Before the conversation can go on, the room has filled and we are directed to sit. I notice the scowl on Marcus' face as a woman in blue steps up to the podium. A member of the Erudite faction begins the procession, accounting our city's history and the reason for the factions, only to remind everyone that it is still their choice, despite the results of the aptitude test. I recall my own test; inconclusive, my proctor stated. He was a young man covered in tattoos, belonging to the Dauntless faction. He uttered a word to me that day, a dangerous word, describing what I am. Divergent. He urged me to keep it secret. I had inklings of my divergence for sometime, but the aptitude test only confirmed it. It accounted for the reason why I found being completely selfless so utterly challenging. I had admired the man in the tattoos for his rebellious attitude and for his courage. That short encounter was one of the reasons my hand hovered over the burning coals, only I hadn't had the courage to follow through with it.

Names are already being called when I reemerge from my reverie. There are some transfers from various factions. No one has chosen Abnegation from another faction, but all Abnegation-born have chosen to remain so far. The next name called is Prior, Caleb Prior. Despite the two-year gap, I'm familiar with the name. Andrew Prior, Caleb's father, is also a leader for Abnegation. I have had many interactions with him since my choice to remain part of this faction. I lean over to see the Priors sitting a few seats away from my father. As Caleb stands I notice that beside Andrew is his wife, Natalie; she is holding the hand of another—a girl. I recall that the Priors have two children, the second being a daughter. This is also her day to choose.

My eyes slide away from her to follow Caleb. His back is taut. The room is silent as he takes the blade, slicing his hand. He does not wince. His eyes scan the bowls until they land on the bowl filled with water. Erudite. A drop of blood _plinks_ into the water. The sound resonates through the hall. The name of the Erudite faction is called. Murmurs start. I glance at my father, in profile, I see his eyebrows have drawn together.

The next name is called shortly after. Beatrice Prior. So that is the name of Andrew and Natalie's daughter. I've met her on more than one occasion, although it's been some time since I've seen her; she's matured since I last laid eyes on her. She always struck me as peculiar, though, her attention always seemed elsewhere. She stands on somewhat shaky legs. I suppose the notion of her brother choosing to leave Abnegation has shaken her. She walks to the stage with her head tilted down. I recognize the apprehension in her posture as she hesitates, her bloodied hand clutched to her. Her gaze slides from one bowl to the next. Slowly her hand reaches out. Her fist hovers between the Dauntless and Abnegation bowls in a way familiar to me. Her indecision speaks to me. She turns slightly and I notice she is biting her lip. Her eyes quickly shift to her parents then over the crowd, perhaps searching for her brother. After looking back at her parents one last time her hand shifts slightly and a drop of blood falls onto the gray stones.

She has sealed her fate, trapping herself in a place she doesn't think she belongs. As the other members of our faction nod, I think I am the only one who can see that she knows she's as stuck as I am.


	19. Baggage

**Tris**

The sun is just peeking through the windows. It's a new day, though, it doesn't feel like much has changed. I've already grown accustomed to the machines beeping, the scuffle of the nurse's and doctor's feet as they come in and out of the room to check on Tobias' status, and the sound of his breathing. The only thing keeping me awake now is the sound of Christina snoring. I'm watching her from my chair at Tobias' bedside; she is perched on the windowsill across from me. I haven't managed to sleep a wink, not that I haven't wanted to, I just can't bring myself to, especially after Marcus' visit and the news that Uriah might in fact be alive and have taken part in the bombing that landed Tobias in this position.

He still hasn't regain consciousness. It's a waiting game, as the doctors put it.

But that's not the only thing I'm waiting for this morning. After I showed Christina the photograph, I got right on the phone with the Bureau and demanded to speak to Matthew. Of course, I didn't mention anything on the phone, afraid that it wasn't safe. After all, Matthew front lines the Bureau and for all I know he could be aware if not apart of it.

There is a _knock, knock_ on the door. I turn to see Amar hanging in the doorway.

"I was wondering who he'd send."

"Did you think it would've been someone else?"

I shake my head.

"I wanted to come the moment I heard but I got held up. I haven't forgotten what you said the other day back in the fringe, actually it's been on my mind since."

I wave Amar in and he quietly sits in the chair next to me. Christina remains snoring across the room. I catch Amar glance at her before his gaze falls on Tobias. I watch Tobias' chest rise and fall; his breathing is slow.

"I spent so much of his initiation looking out for him so that he'd never end up like this. He's was always too stubborn for his own good."

"He hasn't changed much."

"Somehow that's not true."

I look at Amar.

It's hard for me to verbalize exactly what I'm going through when it comes to Tobias. I love him, I have no trouble saying that, but it goes deeper. I'm not the same person I was before I transferred to Dauntless, landing in that net, only to be pulled out by the one person I might have a connection with. I know that Tobias and I complement each other well, but there's so much baggage from each of our pasts that we have to be careful. As much as we've grown, I know we could easily destroy one another. But if he doesn't wake up, I'll never know if we could actually make it work.

The tears are welling up before I can stop them. Amar awkwardly reaches around to put his arm around me, attempting to be comforting except it only makes me realize how uncomfortable I am to the contact.

I wipe my eyes and try to smile the tears away.

"Tell me, what was he like, you know, before?"

Amar's arm falls away.

"He was scared out of his wits when I first met him. You could read it on his face that he bit off more than he could chew. But he had this ferocity about him, it made you want to take a second look. When he would fight someone, it was almost like all of his demons came to the surface and he was hashing it out. It took him time to control it, and when he did, he became a great fighter. I kept my eye out for him but when it got to the second phase of the initiation training, I began to suspect that there was more to him than his rage. Going through Four's mind was and remains an experience that will stay with me. I felt for him and I knew that he needed to make it through. But more than anything, I recognized him to be Divergent, and like me, I knew how important it was to keep that hidden."

"But according to the people you work for, Tobias isn't Divergent at all."

"I may work for their security but that doesn't mean that I agree with their science. To me, it doesn't matter what a person's genetic code says, what matters is what's in a person's heart and soul."

"I don't think he's defective. If anyone is defective, it's me."

"What makes you say that?"

"Despite everything, I'm constantly willing to put my life on the line. So many others have given their lives so that mine can continue, and all I do is gamble that away every time I put myself at risk."

"I know that the factions are no more, but is that not what selflessness is? From what I know, which is quite a lot having seen your life onscreen, is that you don't risk your life needlessly. You're tactical and you put the safety and well being of other's before your own."

"It hasn't always been that way." Two faces flood into my mind. Al. Will.

"No, but that's what it means to grown up, Tris." He says my name for what I realize is the first time since he showed up. "And you'll continue to grow. You'll figure out what's important to you and find a way to hold onto them."

I nod, my eyes drifting off to a ring on Amar's finger. I've noticed that George wears one similar to it, but I never felt it was proper to ask.

"So, you didn't blow up Matthew's phone lines just to talk about you, did you? That'd be rather selfish of you, Tris."

"Ha ha. No, I didn't."

I remember the photograph. I stuffed it into my jacket pocket, which hangs over my chair. I hesitate as I reach for it, not because I don't think I can trust Amar, but because I'm afraid of what I might find out from sharing this. But this isn't just about me. There's Zeke and Hana, Uriah's only family. Then there's Shauna, now pregnant, carrying Uriah's niece or nephew in her belly. Christina and Uriah had gotten quite close, I had even dared to hope that maybe one day... I shake my head. There are more important things.

I retrieve the photo and hold it face-down. "This was delivered to me in person by Marcus. It could be a major clue about the bombings." I hold out the photograph and Amar takes it, turning it over in his hands, his brows furrow.

After a moment, he says, "I swear I had no idea he's not dead."

"If you can authenticate the picture before we jump to any conclusions, that would be helpful. I don't know who we can trust since it was the Bureau that declared him brain dead and unplugged him in the first place."

Amar nods. "I'll take this straight to Matthew."

I stand and put my hand on his shoulder. "I'll be outside, just come get me when you're done."

Amar nods slowly. Although Tobias is unconscious, I know that he and Amar haven't had closure and as much as I don't want to think about the possibility, this might be his only chance.

I'm out of the room a moment later. My legs are stiff from being in the same position so long. I walk down the hall and find the restroom. I can't avoid my reflection. I look pale and sickly. My face is shiny so I run some water over it and pinch my cheeks to try to bring back some color. My eyes are so pale, they practically look gray. My raven tattoos are visible and I run my fingers over them. My family. My fingers linger over the fourth raven, the one signifying Tobias. We are each other's family.


	20. Stuck

**Tobias**

Another year, another initiation. A group of sixteen-year-old initiates stand in a cluster a horizontal line in front of me. I didn't ask them to line up; typical Abnegation courtesy, lining up so that everyone has a equal view of the speaker—me. I start calling the names of Abnegation initiates, assigning them factionless charges.

I call off the first name in my list.

"Black, Susan." Unlike the Choosing Ceremony, I call the names in alphabetical order from the beginning.

A girl steps forward. Her blonde hair is pulled tightly into a bun, other than the mole above her left eyebrow, she has no other distinguishing features. I greet her and hand her a file containing a member of the factionless that she must shadow for the week. The purpose of this exercise is that the initiates spend time seeing firsthand how they live, if they can do so with out complaint or showing any signs of selfishness, they will move on to another task.

I continue calling names and handing out files to each of them. There aren't many, soon enough I make it to the last name on my list.

My eyes land on her before I even utter her name, the only other blonde in the line. "Prior, Beatrice."

Her gray-blue eyes shift to meet mine. I am instantly reminded by the look I saw on her face after she chose to remain in Abnegation. Her gaze never shifting from mine, she steps forward and I hand her the last file in my hand, our hands touch, startled by how the contact excites me, I withdraw—that is when her gaze drops from mine. She returns to the line without a second glance in my direction.

"You will spend each day shadowing the factionless person designated in your file. You will eat the same food, the same ration, you will wear their clothes, you will bathe like them—which is rare—and you will for all intensive purposes be factionless until I feel that you have proven yourself selfless."

There is no movement, no murmurs. The initiates accept this without qualms, all apart from the Prior girl. I notice that her eyes have closed and her lips are squeezed into a tight line.

My gaze slides off of her and I continue. "To the detriment of this task, you will no longer be permitted to spend a night among them. Erudite has opened a case against Abnegation, claiming that the members of this faction are recruiting masses of the factionless to quote on quote 'outnumber the other factions'. But you will not return to your family's home either. During initiation, you will sleep in a dormitory. Members of the Dauntless faction will be present and will supervise each of you while you are with you factionless charges. I will be going around as well. Any questions?"

Nothing. They've barely done so much as to blink. No wonder the other factions refer to us as stiff.

"I'm not looking for outrageous acts of selflessness. What I want to see is what comes naturally." I can't help my gaze when it lands once more on Andrew Prior's daughter. She isn't looking at me though. "Before you meet your charges, I will show you the dormitories, where you will be staying during initiation."

"And last but not least, Prior, this will be your room."

She stands just a little behind me. I open the door to reveal the drab room with a single bed and few cabinets to hold her clothing. Each initiate is given their own room, as small as it may be.

"The lavatory is just off the left of the bed."

I feel the warmth radiating off of her as she peers inside. My larger frame blocks most of the doorway, she shifts sideways so that she can enter the room.

I place my hand on her shoulder before she is completely inside. "Beatrice, right?"

She turns and nods, he eyes sliding down along length of me and back up.

I hear the loud gulp of my throat as I swallow. "If you need anything, even just someone to listen, I'm here for you." I don't even know what possessed me to say such a thing. I immediately control my features and my hand falls from her shoulder.

"Your name is Tobias, you're Marcus' son. Our fathers work together. I remember going to your mother's..." She trails off, realizing she was bringing up something impolite.

"Yes. I believe that's the last time we were face to face. You were much younger then."

"So were you."

She's staring at me in a defiant way, I can only guess that she doesn't like to be thought of as young, even though she's smaller than all the other initiates.

I see part of myself reflected in her eyes. She's trying to make a place for herself here where she feels trapped, I know a lot about feeling trapped.

"Just be careful Tris, tomorrow is going to be a hard day."

Her brows furrow and that's when I realize I called her by the wrong name, but then it also felt right. I apologize and she just nods and the silence between us is awkward enough. I nod back because I don't know what else to do.

I turn to go.

"Why'd you do it?"

I pause. Turning back, I say, "Do what?"

"Stay." Her blue eyes are piercing.

"I'll let you know when I figure that out."


	21. Facing the music

**Tris**

A toilet flushes in one of the stalls. I ignore it, splashing water over my face. There's a squeak as the stall door opens and then footsteps, although the footsteps stop just behind me. I open my eyes to see Evelyn standing behind me in the reflection of the mirror.

"Hello, dear."

I turn around, facing her directly. "Evelyn." I stare at her dark eyes, almost black; they are not Tobias' eyes.

"An unfortunate surrounding for our reunion, don't you think?"

Leaning against the porcelain sink, I say, "I thought you left the city."

"Did you honestly expect I wouldn't come while my son lies unconscious in a hospital bed?"

I realize that I'm behaving no better than she had to me when we first met. This is the wrong way to go about this. If I want to maintain my relationship with Tobias, I'll need to salvage whatever it is I have between Evelyn and myself.

"I'm sorry, it's just hard to trust people right now, especially after..."

"I know, Beatrice. I didn't come here to fight with you."

"You came to see Tobias."

"Not only that. There may have been bad-blood between us in the past, but I would like to ask you for a fresh start. I understand now that I am not the only woman is Tobias' life. I suppose after taking myself away for so long, I was the only woman he was allowed to have and if I couldn't be there, no one else should. It's stupid now, looking back. He loves you genuinely and there isn't anyone else I'd rather him choose to spend his live with other than you."

And that's exactly when I break down. I've been doing a good job—at least I thought—of holding in my tears. With Evelyn's words, the tears came spilling out uncontrollably. I'm still a little surprised when her arms wrap around my shoulders.

"Let it out Tris, it's okay."

I'm practically sobbing in the arms of my boyfriend's mother, but I don't even know if that's what Tobias is to me anymore. Before I know what I'm doing, I'm unintelligibly yelling into Evelyn's chest.

"Shhh."

I pull away from Evelyn. "You don't understand. Tobias and I had a fight the day before the bomb went off. He walked away from me."

She doesn't sat anything back, she just holds me. I realize more than ever how much I miss my mom. We did not have a lot of moments like this; growing up in Abnegation, we were not one for heavy affections but we loved each other, and despite both of my parents being gone, I still love them. The pain from such a loss is resurfacing. I've never really dealt with my grief in reality. With current circumstances as they are with Tobias, I haven't allowed myself to feel much of anything else. But the floodgates have opened and I can't seem to stop.

I remember my mom coming to visit me during my initiation, there were little cues that I either missed or didn't understand. She knew even then after I introduced her to Tobias and I just wish I had more time with her to explore my feelings. Now I'm in the arms of my boyfriend's mother, a woman whom he was previously estranged. Our relationship has pretty much been nonexistent until this moment. It's strange who we seek comfort in.

Evelyn is smoothing my hair. She's a taller woman, I reach her chest. Although she seems calm on the outside, I can hear her own heart beating against my face.

"Be there for him, Tris. You and I are all he has. The rest will figure itself out later."

Not before long, I calm down and dry my eyes. We leave the restroom, Evelyn's arm around my shoulders.

We reach the door to Tobias' room, Amar is exactly where I left him but Christina is sitting up, awake. She spots Evelyn immediately, her eyes practically bulging out of her head.

Evelyn waves with her free hand.

"Tris, what the?"

"Relax, Chris. It's okay." Her eyes return to normal but she's practically on the edge of the window seat.

Evelyn's arm drops from around my shoulders and she quietly steps to the bedside. Shaking, her hand raises to brush Tobias' hair from his forehead.

Watching her be so motherly touches something deep in my core. But I'm not bothered by it, I'm encouraged.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Amar stand. Turning towards me, he tucks the photograph of Uriah into his jacket pocket.

"I'll get word back to you as soon as I find out anything."

"Thank you."

He smiles, his eyes drifting off to Evelyn after he does so. I take it he's not a fan of hers. Amar waves to Christina before he ducks from the room.

My gaze slides back to Tobias and Evelyn. With everything going on, I'm surprised that I can still find small happiness in watching as my boyfriend's mother hums to him. I can imagine happier times, Tobias as a small child, before his father started to beat him. I like to think that they were very close.


	22. Splash of color

**Tobias**

There is one hour left until sunset when I'm almost finished with my first day of rounds; checking up on this year's initiates as they shadow a factionless person. I have followed the list alphabetically so that I can get to know each initiate by face as well as name. My eyes scan over the list until I reach the last name. Prior.

I haven't seen or spoken to Beatrice Prior since I showed her to her living quarters. It hasn't helped much that I spent nearly every moment since thinking about her. She's even taken up residence in my dreams.

I take a bus to the end of the line, walking the rest of the distance to the landfill where I will find Beatrice, shadowing her factionless charge as he relieves a sanitation truck of its load. The entire walk, I can't help but wonder how Tris is fairing. We haven't exchanged many words, but that's more than most between us Abnegation, however, I can tell that she recognizes what it is we have in common, just as I did.

The walk is long, giving me plenty of time to practice controlling my features. If I weren't a member of Abnegation, I might even pride myself on how well I've managed to convince every member of this faction that I belong. But all of my resolve seems to wither away when I think about Tris—Beatrice. I wonder just why, in my deepest thoughts that I have manufactured my very own nickname for her. In Abnegation, we don't have nicknames, we barely use our given names, constantly referring to one another by surnames only.

Shaking my head to clear such thoughts away, I spot the landfill just ahead. The smell burns my nose but I ignore it. I spot the truck quickly enough, taking note that there are more Dauntless guards than last year. I present my ID at the gate and a member of the Dauntless faction points out the truck, in case my Abnegation eyes somehow permit me from seeing such an obtrusive object. It's difficult not to notice the two guards flanking the tuck on each side. Beatrice is easy enough to find, surprisingly, covered in dirt and grime as she is, blending into her surroundings. Her back is to me as she hauls bags of garbage from the truck alongside the member of the factionless she was assigned, a sixty-year-old man.

"Your assignment is strictly to shadow your charge, nothing more."

She jumps at the sound of my voice and spins around to see me. Despite the smudges of soot on her face and her hair in a complete disarray, there is something striking about her. Her light blue eyes stand out.

She still says nothing, resigning to simply staring at me. I'm worried suddenly that I've lost control over my features again.

"We were wondering about that," says a deep voice. I turn to see one of the Dauntless guards to my left. "She's a small girl to begin with. We were taking bets on when she'd give up and keel over but she's been at this for eight hours already. She has quite a resolve for a Stiff."

I nod to the man, a gesture that I would normally only exchange with a fellow Abnegation. I step close to him, suddenly feeling the need to assert myself. With all his gear and even the gun in his hands, I somehow feel more masculine, standing at my full height across from him, several inches taller.

"May I ask a favor of you—what is your name?"

"Amar."

"Amar, I will be supervising this initiate throughout her initiation into Abnegation. I cannot be here every moment, given that I have around a dozen other initiates to look over. Do me a favor and refrain from taking bets on my initiate? Call her a Stiff if you will but you can leave her out of your games."

"Your initiate?" I hear Beatrice mutter under her breath.

Amar laughs. "I like you, both of you. I never knew Stiffs could have such spunk." He reaches his hand out to me. I stare down at it. "I'll let the others know the bets are off but I can't guarantee they'll all listen."

I take his hand and Amar shakes it firmly.

When I turn back to Beatrice, she is once again assisting the factionless man as he unloads the truck.

I walk over to her, dwarfing her easily. "As for you, I will keep this out of my report, but Beatrice, you need to follow the rules or you'll get noticed for all the wrong reasons."

She places the bag of garbage down. "It doesn't make any sense. What's the point of shadowing the factionless, following them, having a serious lack of hygiene like them, eating the same foods they eat, if we can't carry out the same jobs as them? How is that understanding them? And besides, how can that even be considered selflessness, if I'm supposed to just stand there and watch him struggle all day?"

I've heard every word she's said. Despite myself, I am stunned into silence at the sight of the sunset behind her, the colors reflecting onto her face make her features all the more striking. A strong gust of wind blows from the Fence; Beatrice turns into the wind. The look on her face is pure defiance, a look I believe I've seen in her before but I can't recall when. When I say nothing, she continues unloading the truck until it's finished. The factionless man thanks her and drives off with the truck.

We remain in silence for several moments. She won't meet my eyes now. I wonder what mask my face is wearing to make her defiant look disappear.

"Come on, Prior. It won't be long before dark. I'm sure you'll want to bathe before tomorrow, the water gets cold fast in the dorms."

Her eyes meet mine just then. "I thought—"

I say nothing. Instead I turn and begin walking back towards the gates. I don't wait for her to follow me.

Soon enough I hear her softer footsteps behind me. I smile, although she cannot see it.

Dinner is the only meal that the initiates may partake in with the typical Abnegation rations. The usual customs apply; everyone helping to prepare it and no one speaking unless spoken to by their parents—since they're in the dorms, they do not speak unless I ask them a question directly. The meal is quiet that way; I like it.

My eyes scan the faces around the table, landing on Beatrice last. Her cheeks appear rosy to me; the soot washed away from her face and her hair neatly tucked from her face. When I finally do speak, it is not a question.

"I hope that you all have learned something on your first day among the factionless. Selflessness does not come easily. However, for one of you, it seems to come more easily than for the others. Beatrice Prior exhibited a great act of selflessness with no personal gain. It came natural to her. You would all do well to serve this faction to follow Prior's example."

I say nothing more, taking my plate, I stand up and exit the dinning room.

In the dormitory kitchen, I feel a hand tug my arm. I half expect it to be Beatrice. My face turns to stone when I learn that I am right.

"Why did you say that? You made it seem like I did something terrible, and now you're praising me for it?"

I reach to take her plate, putting them both in the sink to begin washing them. "You needed to learn that there are rules. But you also need to learn how to read between the lines. The other factions think that our initiation is easy— it isn't. Selflessness does not come easy for most."

"And you're saying that it comes easy for me?"

I hand her a clean plate and she begins drying it with a dish towel. "I can't say for sure. People like us must learn to wear many faces. Whether it comes natural or it is an act, I will do my best to guide you."

"Why are you helping me?"

I hand her the next plate. "You're rather inquisitive, aren't you?"

She furrows her brows and my heart catches in my chest.

I hear the creak of the door from the dinning room into the kitchen. I take the plate and towel from her, depositing them onto the counter and take her elbow, directing her through the door leading into the hallway. But I don't stop there. I continue leading her to my room, the only place I deem safe enough to continue this conversation in private.

Inside, I watch as her eyes become as big as saucers, taking in the space that is my bedroom. Abnegation custom do not allow members of the opposite gender to enter one another's sleeping quarters unless married.

I continue speaking, concluding that it's the only way to draw her attention away from the only place I have to myself. "People like us, people like you and me, we need to belong as much as possible."

Her eyebrows furrow again as she rolls over what I've just said. She doesn't quite trust me, that I'm sure of. But deep down she recognizes the meaning behind my words.

"Divergents," I utter just above a whisper.

She closes her eyes. I reach out for her hand, I don't even know why, and I'm surprised when she doesn't flinch or pull it away.

"You can trust me, Tris, don't be scared."

Her eyes rise to meet mine at the sound of the nickname. Her hand remains in mine.

"I'm not scared, I can't imagine why not? Here I am in a boy's bedroom, a boy I've only just really met a few days ago, and we're discussing something I haven't even told my parents, all the while you hold my hand and call me something other than the name my parents gave me. As sudden as it may be, standing here with you is the first time I can ever remember feeling like I belong."

We continue holding hands for what feels like an eternity.

get off the bus, walking the distance to the landfill. It's been three days since my last visit to check on Tris' assignment. We've spent nearly every single night in my room. I've never been one for many words, but for some reason, with Tris it just seems to come out, almost as if we've done this before only we can't remember it.

I show my ID at the gate, seeing the Dauntless guard, Amar, as I walk toward the truck.

"She's at it again," he says. "She came in driving the truck today."

I internally roll my eyes. As much as we seem to get along, it seems I yet again have to remind Tris the importance that we blend in seamlessly.

I'm perplexed when I find Tris hovering over a bag of garbage, apparently rifling through it's contents.

"What are you doing?"

Looking at me, she smiles with her eyes only. It took some getting used to, keeping the masks on around each other when we aren't in my room.

"Tobias, it's good you're here. I found something I think you should see."

She waves me over and I crouch down across from her.

"I don't usually go through the garbage, I'll have you know, but this bag broke and you're not going to believe what I've found."

At first she pulls out what looks like scraps of paper, but then I notice they all seem to belong together as if pieces to a puzzle she's trying to put back together.

"I was young when it happened, so I don't really remember what she looked like, but I recognized the name easily enough, even though it was the name before she married—"

"What are you talking about?"

She assembles the pieces of paper. It's a letter. My eyes scan over the penmanship; I don't need to read the name signed on the bottom to know the identity of the writer. I know instantly that it's my mother's.

Tris leans in close to me. "She's alive."


	23. Trust

**Tobias**

"It's dated just about a week ago," she continues. "I can't really make out the context, though. It must be written in some type of code."

I rise to my full height.

My eyes bounce from Tris to the Dauntless guards and then to the factionless man, before landing back on Tris. I stomp on the scraps of paper, forcing them deep into the dirt.

I reach for Tris' hand, yanking her up. Without a second thought I pull her away from the truck.

"Tobias?"

"We need to go, Beatrice."

"Ouch, you're hurting me."

I look down between us; her skin is white under my grip. I realize my strength and let go immediately.

"Hey, is everything alright with you, Stiff?" Amar strolls up behind me.

Tris is pulling her sleeve down; her eyes purposefully not meeting mine.

"Yes," I say, waving him off.

Amar glances from me to Tris and then decidedly turns away.

"Come on, Prior."

Her gaze jumps to my face for a quick second before dropping to stare at the ground. I don't like the expression crossing her face right now. It seems calling her by her last name hurt her more than me gripping her arm too tight.

I turn and walk, silently willing her to follow me. I wave to the guards as I exit, an example of utmost calm on the outside while inside I running a marathon.

I'm passing between the gates when I hear a set of footsteps behind me. Slowing down, I wait for her to catch up.

She says nothing to me and does not meet my gaze, in fact her eyes refuse to even look at me.

When we finally catch the bus the stretch of silence does nothing to calm my nerves. I know I can't talk about it here, not in the open as we are, but the fact that Tris won't even look at me is the most disturbing of all.

We are alone, apart from the bus driver—a factionless man.

Tris grabs on my arm and turns me to face her.

"What was that, Tobias?"

I shake my head, willing her to understand me—not here, not yet.

When we reach the initiate dorms, none of the others have yet to return. Before I can wave Tris to follow me into my room, she is down the hall closing the door to her room behind her. Aggravated, I go into my own room without a word.

Shortly after, I hear the footsteps of other initiates returning; some making their way to the kitchen to prepare tonight's meal. Tris is on the rotation tonight. I won't get another opportunity to speak with her until after dinner. I lay prone on my bed, attempting to devise the best dialogue—a way to explain that I already know about my mother being alive and how best not to hurt her. All scenarios result with Tris walking away from me. I am terrible with words, not that I don't already know that.

It is time for dinner and I do my best to control my features before leaving my room. I take my usual seat. The entire meal I have to fight everything, every urge inside me, not to look over at her.

I steal myself one glance. Tris' eyes are already on me, however; I don't like the look on her face as she stares at me.

Breaking the eye contact, she excuses herself from the table. After that, it feels like an eternity until the meal is finished. Following clean up, I break from the kitchen and make a b-line for her room before anyone notices.

My fist lightly double-taps on the door. Tris opens the door, her body blocking the doorway, but does not say a word.

"May I come in?"

"Oh, now you want to talk to me?"

"Tris, please."

"What happened to calling me Beatrice or Prior?"

I glance from one side to the next, making sure the hall is still clear.

"Let me in."

She exhales sharply then backs away from the door. She doesn't sit down and I don't even attempt to ask.

She watches me, expectantly. "Well?"

I breathe deeply in and out. "I need you to hear me out, okay?"

"You've barely said a word to me all day, particularly after I showed you the scraps of paper with your mother's handwriting. You changed in that moment, everything about you—you're demeanor, the way you speak, the way you look at me. You became a closed book. You shut me out."

"I wasn't trying to shut you out. I'm not the best with words or even explaining things. But besides that, it wasn't the time and the place. It's a sensitive subject, not something to be talked about lightly or in front of others, Dauntless or Abnegation otherwise."

"Tobias, she's your mother; the woman that you've thought dead for years. Of course it's a sensitive subject. You've opened up to me in the last few days, I wouldn't expect you to spill everything in front of those people."

"That's not what I mean."

"Sensitive how, then?"

"This is bigger than just you and me, Tris."

"I'm not sure I understand."

I need her to understand me, I need her to trust me, but most of all I just need her. Before I know it, the words just start pouring out of me.

"My mother _is_ alive, Tris, and I've known that for almost a year. I found her, or rather she found me, when I was checking in one last year's Abnegation initiates on assignment. I was stunned and hurt and completely overwhelmed. At first, I didn't want to listen to a thing that came out of her mouth. She had abandoned me; left me alone with my monster of a father, and for what? So that she could abandon her faction and live among the factionless. But then curiosity got the better of me, as well as my conscience. I heard her out and listened to her side. And as far fetched as it may seem, I believed—believe her because it makes more sense than the truth."

She is quiet when I stop speaking.

When she continues to say nothing, I tell her the truth, all of it. I tell her why my mother's death was faked and about the Erudite serum and their spies in the Dauntless faction. I tell her about their plans to gain control over the factions. At first, I think that there can be no way she believes me. Her eyes are so big, they are like saucers.

She finally speaks and says, "My brother is in Erudite, he chose the water during the Choosing Ceremony. There's no way he would be involved in such a plot, it's just not possible."

"I don't know your brother, Tris, not like I have gotten to know you over the last few days. All I know is that it's more important than ever that we hide our divergence. We need to blend in. One of the leaders of the Erudite faction, Jeanine Matthews, believes that Abnegation turns out the most Divergents. She is scouring the factions for them now. That is why it is more imperative than ever that we hide who we are from the rest of the world. We will survive this together, Tris, I just know we will."

Tris' gaze does not waver from mine. She doesn't walk away.


	24. Little talks

**Tris**

I hear the _swish_ of material as the nurse's scrubs rub together. My head lifts up from my arms that have been resting on Tobias' bed. The clock reads just after midnight. I turn to see the nurse adjust the date on the Dry Erase board on the wall to my left. It's been about two weeks since the bombing, since I've been sitting in this hospital. Tobias has yet to wake up. The doctors have confirmed that he has slipped into a coma.

The nurse then checks Tobias' vitals, despite their lack of change. I don't watch her though; I don't need to. I've already memorized the routine.

I continue to stare at the date on the board even after the nurse leaves. My eyebrows draw together. There's something about the date that should alarm me but I just can't put my finger on it.

"This coffee tastes like garbage," I start at the sound of Christina's voice behind me.

I turn. "No doubt you've told the entire cafeteria staff."

"Oh, you bet I did and I gave them an earful. How can they expect us to keep vigil at our man's bedside on this crap?" She hands a second Styrofoam cup to me. I eye it cautiously but take it anyway. "I shouldn't be drinking it though," she continues, "my cramps are killing me and it's only making my stomach worse."

I stand, releasing the Styrofoam cup. Christina catches it in midair.

"What's going on?" she says while straightening.

"The date," I say, my gaze transfixed on the whiteboard.

"So, what?"

My fingers start counting. I count over and over again, until suddenly I conclude that my calculations are correct: my period is nine days late.

"Tell me one more time; you guys used protection, right? Both times. I mean, you can be pretty reckless, but Tobias seems like a pretty careful guy."

"Yes. We took the necessary precautions," I say. My head is in my hands. Christina stands over me with a cup of coffee in each of her hands. She's already moved onto the one that was intended for me.

"And you're only just realizing now that you're late?"

I nod, shamefully. With everything going on, I certainly wasn't thinking about dates.

"Well, we are in a hospital. That's one way to find out."

"Chris, no."

"Why not?"

"Half of this hospital is full of people who know who we are personally or by association. Besides, I don't want anyone getting hold of such information, not with the way things are right now. You and I both know how much information is worth here and what others are willing to pay for it."

"I'll call Shauna. Maybe she has some pregnancy tests laying around. "Or," she drags out the word, "I could go downstairs and and pick on up at the gift shop."

I glare at her.

"Okay, calling Shauna it is."

"Zeke can't know."

"I know, I know."

Christina nods and I believe her.

Shauna rolls into the room an hour later with Zeke strolling in behind her. They have visited twice since finding out about their pregnancy. It's taken a lot from Shauna but it was one of the few happier moments in this room when we got to congratulate them on their coming baby.

Shauna shoos Zeke from the room, claiming that we need to talk about girly things. Zeke grumbles that it's the only thing we do. Christina yells out that if he keeps talking under his breath that we'll convince Shauna to name the baby something more embarrassing that Ezekiel.

When he's out of earshot, I breathe out slowly. Looking at Shauna, I say, "Did you bring it?"

She reaches into her purse and retrieves a rectangular package. "Luckily I had this left over. Once the doctors confirmed that the tests weren't giving me a false positive, I no longer bothered to use them. But this pack comes with three. Do them all."

I nod slowly then take the package from her. My nerves are getting the best of me, that doesn't happen often and I don't like it.

I nod again, staring down at the package. I look from Shauna to Christina. "Here I go." I stuff the box under the sweater I wear, which actually belongs to Tobias, and step out of the room. Down the hall I quietly find myself in the ladies restroom. It appears to be empty. My hand is shaking as I pull open the stall door.

I read the directions on the package twice before acting. I inwardly pray I have enough pee in my bladder to complete the task. One by one I pee on each stick and put the caps over them before stuffing them back into the box and under the material of Tobias' sweater. The smell of his detergent finds its way into my nose and I take comfort in it. I wash my hands before returning to the room.

Christina and Shauna are exactly where I left them, as if they haven't moved an inch. I shut the door behind me and quietly retrieve the three test stick from the package. Laying them in a line on Tobias' bed and then I avoid looking at them, finding a spot on the floor to concentrate on. After a few moments I steal a glance at the clock. "It's been two minutes."

Christina looks like she's holding her breath and Shauna is simply staring at me. My eyes slide to the three sticks. I hold up the box, using the pictures on the backside as a guide.

The sticks all look the same, each with a single straight line in the display instead of a crossing perpendicular ones. I feel someone hovering over my shoulder, undoubtedly it's Christina.

I turn just enough to see her shrug her shoulders. "What? Come on, did you really think that I'd be able to handle the suspense?" She peers over me a little more.

"So, you're not pregers then, huh?"

I let out a long breath. I did not have the strength to say it aloud, but I knew I could count on Christina to say it for me.

"It would appear not." I hand the sticks and the box over to Shauna to confirm. She nods.

"Maybe it's just from the stress," says Christina.

"It's amazing that with everything we've lived through in the past few months and even now that we can still worry about the little things," adds Shauna.

"Like boys and babies," offers Christina.

I turn back to Tobias, watching his sleeping form. I let out another breath; not sure if it is relief that I feel, or something completely different.


	25. Down the rabbit hole Part 1

**Tobias**

I weave my way through the buildings in the slums of the factionless, trying to discern one broken down building from another. The buildings look practically identical with their deteriorating exteriors and dilapidated interiors. I have only been here once; the day factionless men took me by surprise and brought me here blindfolded. When the blindfold was removed I was face to face with perhaps the last person I had expected.

This time my escorts have refrained from using the blindfold; resigning to each hold one of my arms. Also, I know exactly who I will be seeing.

We make a sharp turn and my escorts usher me through the door of the of the nearest building. It is dark inside and stinks of mold. The windows are blacked out, the only sources of light to guide our way are candles spread out randomly on the floors, the walls, and on the stairs. However we do not take any stairs. We remain on the first level and come to a stop in front of a doorway. A heavy dark fabric takes the place of the door. One of my escorts taps on the door frame twice and then after a short pause he taps once more.

I hear a voice, the sound of it chills me to the bone. "Enter."

The heavy fabric is lifted to the side and my escorts push me through. In front of me is a large wooden desk and behind it is a chair. The chair is occupied, and although the room is even darker than the rest of the building, there is no way I wouldn't recognize that face.

"Hello, mother."

Her gray eyes pierce right through me. "Tobias."

There is a thick silence in the room for several moments. I do not say another word. My eyes shift around the room, counting how many factionless men and women line the surrounding four walls. I count twelve not including my mother or myself. I expected nothing less, even though I am my mother's only son, after all this time, I can't blame her for being cautious.

My mother was never one for uncomfortable silences, especially since in our household, that usually meant the calm before my father's storm. "You requested to see me." It isn't a question. "You risk a lot coming here, out in the open, asking to see a dead woman."

"I think it is you who is taking unnecessary risks."

She cocks her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"As you know, I supervise the Abnegation initiates. I came across one of your letters on location at the sanitation dump."

"Did your initiate see said letter?"

"No, one of the bags broke and I snatched it up before anyone could, and disposed of it. The point is, mother, that you are getting sloppy. I've managed to keep this secret of yours from my father but I can't be everywhere at once. You need to be careful."

"Our time for secrecy is soon over. Plans have already been set in motion. When it is time, I will no longer have to hide. All you need to do is to be exactly where I instructed you when the time comes."

"And how will I know when that time is?"

"You'll know."

It's been two weeks since I visited my mother.

The initiation is almost over. Today is the last day. Tris and the others will listen to the elders of our faction as they read the entire manifesto. When that is done, members of Abnegation will wash the feet of the initiates. Then we will share the meal that the initiates have prepared for us. Once the meal is finished, the initiates will no longer be initiates, they will be Abnegation.

I shut the door to my dorm room quietly behind me as I face the hall. There are no locks in Abnegation. There is little noise reverberating through the hall, only the sounds of kitchen utensils clanging together as the initiates prepare tonight's meal. When I enter the kitchen, my eyes slide over each of them, bowing my head when they notice my presence. Tris' back is to me. It makes it easier to enter a room that way, because whenever I see her, she takes my breath away.

I check the watch on my wrist, the only adornment we as Abnegation are allowed. I give them a twenty minute warning before the elders will read each of them the manifesto for our faction. Tris turns to me then. As the others are focused on finishing up what they are doing, I allow the corners of my mouth to curve into a smile.

I observe quietly and patiently as the elders of Abnegation read aloud the faction manifesto.

I feel a hand rest on my shoulder. Turning slightly, I can see that the hand belongs to my father. I shift slowly, just enough so that his hand falls. I turn my attention back to what is in front of me.

Tris sits still on the bench several feet across from me. The elder sitting next to her is quite old and goes through each line of the manifesto slowly. "I will be my undoing if I become my obsession. I will forget the ones I love if I do not serve them." Tris looks up, her gaze meeting mine. I am staring into her pale blue eyes. We have not spoken of love; I haven't allowed myself to ponder it but I can feel that deep connection between us. Her gaze drops. "I will war with others if I refuse to see them. Therefore I choose to turn away from my own reflection, to rely not on myself but my brothers and sisters, to project always outward until I disappear."

The elder has finished reading the manifesto. At Tris' feet there is a bowl of water. Before anyone else has the chance, I step forward and kneel before her. Gently, I remove her boots then her socks, exposing her soft pale skin. The water in the bowl is cool as I dip each of her feet into in. Cupping my hand, I gather water and let it drip down her smooth legs and into the bowl again. I avoid looking at Tris at all costs while the entire faction looks on. My father remains only a few feet behind me and I am sure Tris' parents are not far.

Dinner is over. After cleaning up, I snatch Tris and lead her back to the initiate dorms. She is not an initiate anymore. Tomorrow she will pack up her things and return home to her parents—that is, until she decides to marry. My heart jumps in my chest at the thought of her marrying someone else. I shake my head, not allowing myself to worry about such things tonight. I lead her quietly into my room. One of the things I admire about Tris is her daring spirit. Before the door is fully closed, her arms are around my neck and she is kissing me.

At the sound of the door slamming shut, I stumble. I break the kiss just long enough to turn her so that her back is to the bed. She pulls me to her and I feel her weight directed down to the bed. My hand wraps around her waist as I guide her down. Her hands are in my hair. My lips are eager to meet hers again but something blue catches my attention in the corner of my eye.

My head snaps left to see my mother's blue sculpture sitting on the night table. The sculpture had remained in my bedroom in my father's house, which can only mean one thing: it's time.


	26. Doppleganger

**Tris**

I'm alone again. Christina left an hour ago to get us some clean clothes. Initially I had Zeke pick up some of Tobias' clothes before we knew he was in a coma. I've been wearing his so often that they are starting to smell like me and less like him. Knowing Christina, she's probably buying me some new ones, claiming that wearing Tobias' clothes all the time isn't suitable for the girl who nearly died protecting the people of Chicago. I don't like when she puts it like that. I didn't stop a destructive bomb from being dropped on the city. In my mind all I wanted was to prevent the people from being taken advantage of again. I'm not the hero she wants me to be; I can't even save my own boyfriend.

I drop my head into my hands. Lately, I have been very down on myself. And there's the fact that neither Matthew nor Amar have been returning any of my calls has been extremely frustrating.

I am standing in the hallway now, leaning against the wall. The nurse came in to clean Tobias shortly after Christina left. It isn't a glamorous job; I left the room because I could bare to see her change his diaper. I'm not ashamed of him and I don't pity him either. Just seeing him there doing nothing—not talking, not moving, not smiling— just laying there, it's hard to see him like that. I would even give to see him punch someone for no reason at all. When I met him he seemed invincible. Of course, I've learned my lesson; no one is invincible, not even me. But Tobias always seemed more resilient that me, more sure of himself. The only time I ever questioned that was when he plotted with Nita to attack the compound. And now I don't even count it.

That particular event remains at the forefront of my memories is because that was what led to Uriah's death, or so the Bureau doctors made us believe. We'd all thought him brain dead after that. It has been on my mind lately, wondering if all this time that it has been part of a conspiracy by the Bureau. I also wonder if I should continue to trust Matthew.

Something buzzes in my pocket; one of those mobile devices that are popular outside of the city. Of course, no one living in the fringe can afford them but Matthew gave me one to keep in contact. It takes me a moment before I reach into my pocket and check the caller ID.

Caleb.

I put the phone back into my pocket. I know that I shouldn't ignore him at a time like this but I don't want to worry him. I resign to call him if anything changes.

"Tris."

I look up and see a tall figure approaching me.

"Returning my calls would have sufficed. You didn't have to come all the way down here." There is a bitterness to my voice that I don't entirely intend.

Amar swipes a hand over his face. "Look Tris, I can't begin to fathom what you're going through and how much you want answers but I need you to come with me right now."

"What?"

Amar's right hand goes to his hip and I notice the gun holstered there. "I have men downstairs ready to take us to the compound."

"What's going on?"

"Tris, there isn't any time for questions. The answers are waiting for you with the Bureau. I was sent to secure your transport."

I shake my head but the rest of my body is frozen. "I can't leave Tobias."

"He'll be taken care of Tris. This is a matter of your security."

He reaches for my hand with his left and I am still trying to process why his right hand is removing the his gun from his hip.

"What about Christina," I say "I have to tell her."

"Christina will be meeting us there. No need to worry."

Amar's hand is grasping my elbow. I look down. There is no ring on his left ring finger, not even a tan line to mark where it sat.

I pull my arm back from his reaching grasp. "Amar, where's George?"

"George is—"

I grab his left hand and twist it with force. I sense his right hand holding the gun and use my forearm to block his. Ducking low, I swipe my leg, knocking him from his feet. He hits the ground hard but I know he's not unconscious. I scramble, my eyes searching for the gun. I was too preoccupied with my offense to listen for the clatter. I spot it! In front of the closed door to Tobias' room.

I sprint the short distance, the door creaking. I twist to see the nurse open the door, presumably finished with her duties. "Go back inside!" Her eyes go wide and just before something tugs my hair, pulling my head along with it. I lose my balance and my legs and feet are dragging behind me. I cock the gun and fire.

He grunts but I know I didn't inflict a wound. Amar pulls me down but I use his momentary confusion to shift, wrenching away from his arms.

Instead of retreating, he rushes towards me, his body pressing me into the wall. We are fighting over the gun. I can't let him win, no matter what. For all I know, he could have intercepted Christina and she could already be in danger.

Playing dirty, I bite his arm hard. "Bitch!"

But I don't stop. I keep on the offense just as Tobias trained me. I kick him between the legs and the Amar impostor goes down. Moving to stand behind him I take the butt of the gun and jab it into the back of his head. His body stiffens and then goes limp. I let go, watching as his body crashes to the floor.

"You're not Amar," I say.


	27. Down the rabbit hole Part 2

**Tobias**

My body goes rigid, the action alarming enough to Tris that she asks me what's wrong. I don't answer. There are so many things running through my head that it's hard to focus.

I blink. I could ignore it, ignore the sculpture and ignore the responsibilities that come with it. I can forget all about seeing my mother's treasured object and return my attentions to the pretty blond in my bed. The only problem is that I know what's coming—how different things will turn out if I don't carry out my end; I can't let that weigh on my conscious. I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. I know what I have to do, why suddenly do I feel so unprepared?

I reach out to the blue sculpture but my hand is shaking and all I succeed in doing is knocking it off of the nightstand and to the floor with a clatter.

I slide off of Tris but remain sitting on the bed.

"Tobias." The sound of my name from her lips is normally comforting but not now, not in the state I'm in.

I try to think in steps but my mind is bombarded, making it difficult to sort through and remain calm. She says my name again, her hands on my shoulders, shaking me and somehow it gets through.

My mind goes quiet as if hearing Tris has locked everything else away, everything but her voice. Slowly my hands reach up and gently I take her hands in mine. Holding her hands between us, I've finally found my voice. "Tris," I say, "Listen to me very carefully. We need to get up. We're going to leave this room. Together we will go to my father's house."

Her brows furrow. "Your father?"

"He will help get your parents while we head to safety."

"Tobias, what's going on?"

"Do you trust me." Her eyes study my face for a moment and then she nods. "Then you need to do as I say, just this once. I'll tell you everything once we're safe."

She pulls away and I can see that Erudite side of her trying to analyzing the situation. I know that there is a defiant side of her, the side that wants to be in control, but now, right now, I need her to listen.

"There isn't much time, Tris."

Her eyes meet mine again and she nods. "What about Caleb?"

I had forgotten about her brother's defection to Erudite; she hasn't mentioned him once. "I'll go get him after we see my father and you will go ahead to the location." I'm watching her, unsure if she has decided to change her mind. "Tris?"

She kisses me fiercely and I reciprocate, putting everything into that kiss that I can't express with words.

Holding my hand out, I help Tris from the bed. I go into the dorm closet next and lift up a false panel from the floor. I glance back at Tris to see the questioning look on her face. I can imagine what she's thinking, that perhaps there is more to me than she thought. Reaching into the compartment, I fish out two gray jackets. The weather is beginning to cool down so it won't be unreasonable to have warming clothing. I hold one out to Tris.

"Put this on. The reverse side is black. I'll tell you when to change it."

Tris looks at the jacket and then takes it, shrugging it on quickly.

There's one last thing I need before we leave. I quickly grab the blue sculpture off of my nightstand and tuck it into my jacket.

"Ready?"

Tris nods. "Ready."

There is no going back after this point.


	28. Renegade

**Tris**

My chest is heaving. The fight took a lot out of me. Sitting in the hospital has left me out of practice and out of shape.

I look down at the gun in my hand. It isn't like any of the models I've seen the Bureau employees carry. Putting on the safety, I shove the gun into the waist of my pants.

Behind me, a door slams open. With adrenaline still running through my veins, my reactions are quick. Men clad in black protective gear emerge. I instantly conclude that whoever these men are, they are not with the Bureau. I know I need to move but I meant what I said to the Amar impostor; I can't leave Tobias behind.

The fight with Amar brought me down the hall from Tobias' room. I make a beeline for the closed door.

I barely register the sound of gunshots as bullets rain around me, aimed at my lower legs so as to disarm me. Some of the bullets bury themselves in the wall ahead of me.

My hand fumbles at the doorknob. I can't help but look back, jiggling the doorknob frantically as I see the men closing in. Finally the door gives way and I burst inside. The nurse looks up at me. She is standing across the room, at the other side of Tobias, still comatose in the bed.

"Were those gunshots?"

"Don't open the door!" I heave between breaths.

I prop my chair under the handle against the door. It won't hold for long. Even though I am familiar enough with the space, my gaze jumps around the room, searching for anything that can be useful or even an exit—I only see the glass window behind the nurse. There is a bang on the door but it doesn't make me jump, instead more adrenaline pumps through my body.

I start when I see the nurse's red hair in my periphery. She is moving for the door.

"Dont!" I yell. If I've learned anything at all it's when to fight and when to run and hide. Right now there is no hope to fight.

The nurse ignores me, stopping just before the door and bends down to lift one leg of her scrubs, revealing a gun strapped to her calf.

She looks back at me and I can only imagine the look on my face. I retrieve the gun from my pants and click the safety off simultaneously as I bring it into position, aimed at the nurse. She frees the gun and holds it properly, indicating that she's had training. We are staring back at one another in a face-off.

"I am not your enemy, Beatrice Prior."

"That's not what it looks like from where I'm standing." My eyes shift to the hospital badge hanging at her hip and back. "Meghan."

"Call me Meg."

"What?"

"Matthew sent me from the Bureau to keep an eye on you and Tobias Eaton."

My brows furrow. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"It was an extra precaution to keep you safe. As I see it now, he made the right call."

My finger slides into place at the trigger, ready to apply pressure at any moment. "How do I know that you aren't working with whatever that thing was in the hallway that looked like Amar."

"What are you talking about?"

"The fight in the hallway. Only a few minutes ago Amar approached me. He was pretty convincing, considering he looked exactly like and sounded like Amar. But I saw through his charade. I knocked him unconscious before more men arrived."

"It seems that there is more than just the Uriah clone running around now."

"How do you know about Uriah? What is a clone?"

We both start at the sound of gunshots and bullets penetrating the door, spraying into the room. Meg jumps out of the way and although my first instinct should be to save myself, I turn to check Tobias. There is no sign of any damage, but as a precaution, I disable the breaks on the bed and shift it so that he is now parallel to the wall, mindful of all the wires and equipment he is connected to.

Meg has recovered. At the sound of her voice, I bring my gun back into position. "We only have to hold them off long enough for our response team to arrive." Her gun hangs at her side, no longer pointing at me. "I made the call when you yelled at me to go inside. Must you continue to point that gun at me?"

"You haven't answered my previous questions."

She sighs. "After the bombing at the Hancock building, the Bureau began to show interest. Apparently, there is some renegade division that has begun collecting DNA of the Divergents part of the city uprising. They intend to cause a rebellion against the Bureau by using the fighters that have previously supported it. As for clones, they are an exact genetic copy of an organism. The technology has existed for years and has been abused time and time again. It had a practical use once, to grow limbs and other body parts for wounded soldiers and those in need of replacement organs. Although it has been outlawed, once the technology exists, it is difficult to banish the knowledge from the population. It is clear that the renegades have resurrected the practice, so to speak. My assignment was to assess if you were involved and how much you knew. Also, to protect you as I believe it has become clear that you are their next target."

"Those men could have killed me in an instant. They weren't shooting to kill."

"You're right. I believe they intend to make a clone from your DNA."

"What purpose would that serve?"

Meg shakes her head. "Don't you see, Beatrice Prior, you are the face of the rebellion. If there exists a clone in your image, the renegades could get the entire population of Chicago and then some to follow them."

The weight of Meg's words sink in slowly. I nod at the understanding but not the acceptance. I'm sick of being used and being underestimated. But I can't face this alone, not after everything. My gaze shifts to the bed. _Tobias, you need to wake up!_


	29. And it all comes crashing down

**Tobias**

I lead Tris out into the hallway. I hold Tris' hand as she follows behind me. Neither of us carry a bag as it is important that we remain inconspicuous. Most of the former initiates have already left the dorms to return to their parent's homes. As for the rest, those previous belonging to other factions, they will be assigned a new home tomorrow, or at least that is what is supposed to happen. We make a point to be quiet as to not to disturb any of those who linger on the premises.

"Hey, you!"

I turn at the voice. Susan.

Tris lets go of my hand.

"Hi, Susan" she says.

Susan leans to see passed Tris and looks at me. There is no emotion visible on her face.

She stands straight again before readdressing Tris. "My parents suggested that we should have dinner tomorrow night." Her gaze slides to me and back. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind having the Eatons over as well."

I can only see the back of Tris' head to know that she nods. "I would like that very much."

There is a moment of silence and then Tris turns to once again face me.

At first I think that she is ready to go but then I catch that look in her eyes, the one that is silently pleading with me. My resolves dissipates easily where it concerns her. Slowly, I nod.

Tris whips around fast. "In fact, Susan," she says, "why don't you tell your parents to speak with mine as soon as possible."

"Okay."

Tris gives Susan a quick hug before returning to my side. The gesture is odd for Abnegation and I can see the confusion perforating Susan's features. Tris' hand slides into place, her fingers twinning with mine. We leave Susan standing in the hallway.

* * *

I urge Tris to let me go in first. I'm sure that my father has already drawn conclusions about us but I know the worst thing would be to bombard him with the reality. She has reluctantly agreed to wait in the shadows until I signal for her to come inside.

As we come up to the block where my father's home, my childhood home, is located, at first glance nothing seems to be amiss. We are still holding hands; every part of me is refusing to let her go. At then I see something. Initially I suspect some initiate to be returning home―that maybe Susan arrived the same time as we did. But there are more figures, many more, clad in black and red and carrying guns. Tris sees them too and her eyes are wide. We're too late.

I squeeze Tris' hand hard before turning to her. My hands and at her shoulders. "New plan" I say. "You are going to go to you parent's house. Calmly, you're going to tell them to get up and follow you to the Hancock building. If they refuse to listen you tell them that the Dauntless are coming. If they don't move, the Dauntless will kill them all."

"But we've never had any problems with them, why would they hurt us?" Her voice does not waiver even though the panic is clear on her face. Even now, I admire her.

"They are stuck in a simulation. Dauntless and Erudite are collaborating for this attack. The important thing is to get you and your parents to safety."

"What about everyone else?"

"I won't lie to you. Casualties are expected. But Tris, I can't let you be one of them. I'll save as many as I can. Just get to the building in one piece. When you get far enough you change your coat to the black side."

She nods and at first I wonder if she's heard anything I've said. Of course she has, I think. I kiss her forehead and tell her to go. As for me, my eyes are set on my father's house.

I push the door open. Immediately I see my father. He sits in a chair facing the door, a smoking pipe in his right hand. He lets out a puff of smoke from between his lips. Such things are not allowed for the Abnegation, but I suppose it is just another one of those rules my father believes himself to be the exception.

"The prodigal son returns."

"It's time to go."

He takes another drag from his pipe. "You think I didn't realize when someone comes into my own home and takes something?"

"We have a job to do."

"You think I'm going to let your wench of a mother boss me around?"

"Not unless you want to be killed. Get up."

"I said no."

I take a step towards him and he slams the pipe down on the table next to him.

"Are you going to defy me, boy?"

I say nothing but he stands up, coming to his full height and crosses the distance between us. Although I am taller, he is broader and more defined.

"That's what I thought." I snatch his arm. He attempts to break free but he cannot. I have been training in my dorm room all these weeks, strengthening myself. "Let go of me!"

"In a manner of hours the faction system as we know it will begin to crumble. You no longer get to tell me what to do." I twist his arm in an awkward direction and hear his hiss of pain. "You will do as agreed or she will cut you like a loose end that you are."

Marcus' eyes narrow. "What makes you think that I care?"

"Whether I like it or not you're a survivor. Or at least that's the plan."

* * *

The sun is beginning to rise. Still there is no sign of Tris or her parents. My father managed to assemble the other council members. Caleb Prior stares out the window.

"Didn't I tell you to keep away from the windows?"

He looks back at me through glass lenses. _At least he's taken off that blue garb_ , I think. We all wear colors of other factions. I have chosen to wear all black. Caleb wears a white t-shirt with a black jacket and pants.

He leaves the window behind and comes to sit next to me. "I thought you said my family will be here."

"They will." I am careful to remain calm on the outside. I can't allow myself to even doubt for an instant that I will ever see Tris again.

Caleb shakes his head. "I don't even know why I'm here. There's no way the Erudite are staging any sort of attack on the Abnegation, let alone recruiting the Dauntless to do their dirty work."

"Well they are."

"Who is you source? I belong to Erudite now, and I haven't heard anything."

"Just shut up." I am surprised by my own harshness but don't show it.

"Like father, like son it would seem." I turn to see one of my mother's factionless lackeys. He wears a black long sleeve shirt and red pants. But my gaze is focused on his hands where he carries a gun. It was my mother's idea to arm them.

Suddenly there is a loud sound, a bang. The factionless lackey starts, pointing the gun at door, the only way in or out of the room we are holding up in. The door bursts open. In an instant I'm on my feet. Members of the Dauntless faction pour in.

At first I think that we have been found, unlike the rest of us pretending to be from other factions, these guys are the real deal, covered in tattoos and piercings. And they have their guns aimed straight at us. I am about to grab the gun from the factionless man when I notice a familiar face.

"Amar," I say.

His gaze jumps to me. "You, you're the Stiff I'm looking for. Tobias Eaton, right?"

I nod.

He lowers the gun and I instantly relax. "Is the party all here," he asks.

"We're still waiting on a few more."

"Well we don't have much time. Let's hope they get here fast." He walks over to me whilst the others fan out around the room. He tugs on a piece of Velcro on his pants and pulls something free. I realize he's holding out a weapon to me. "Ever use one of these before?" I shake my head. "You're about to get a crash course."

* * *

Almost another hour has passed and still no sign of Tris and her parents or even Susan and her family for that matter. Caleb is pacing. I tell myself to remain calm.

One of the other Dauntless men approach Amar. He whispers into Amar's ear. Amar nods and then claps his comrade on the shoulder. They stare into each other's eyes and even for a 'Stiff' I am aware of their silent communication.

Amar walks over to me, leaving the other man behind.

"There's movement a block south. It could be the rest of your party."

"Or?"

"Or it could mean trouble. We'll find out soon enough."

I nod in the direction of the man Amar was just speaking with. "Are all of your loved ones safe?"

He follows my gaze. "As safe as he'll ever be." I purse my lips. "That girl, the one―"

Amar presses his hand to his ear. I can only ascertain that he has someone communicating to him through an earpiece. All of the Dauntless members turn and aim their guns at the door.

A few seconds pass and then a person steps through. Andrew Prior. My heart begins to race. I take a step towards the door but then the next person steps through. Susan. And then her brother and their parents.

Before Marcus or Caleb can make their approach, I confront Tris' father.

"Mr. Prior."

"Eaton, Tobias Eaton." He's out of breath. I wonder why he continues with formality but I suppose that even in crisis, habits die hard.

"Where is she?" I ask, almost pleadingly. "Where is your daughter?"

"She's with her mother. They were right behind us. Nat told me to go ahead, said she'd create a diversion."

The blood drains from my face and he must see it because his own face becomes alarmed but only for an instant.

I didn't want to meet her father like this. By tradition I would have gone to their house for dinner, courted her slowly and then asked for their permission. But he must already know because he puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "Don't worry. She's safe."

Although his hand is surprisingly comforting on my shoulder I don't know how he can be so sure. My brows furrow.

"We need to go. Time's up." Amar has come to stand next to me.

At that same moment Andrew notices his son and his hand leaves my shoulder so that he can embrace his firstborn.

In a matter of minutes we are back on the street. Every nerve of my being is on edge. I can't leave her behind. There has to be some way to stall, despite all of my previous failed attempts.

Amar and his men are leading us to the train. I've seen the Dauntless do it countless times―jump the track and land inside the car doors. I can't imagine attempting it, yet that would seem that it what they intend for us to do.

Silently I run alongside the track, the train is quick to approach. The platform stretches out before me but I know it is only a matter of time before it runs out. I let out one breath, one more before I take the leap. For an instant the air seems to cradle me and then I am crashing into the metal floor of the train car.

A hand reaches out to help me up. I follow the arm up to the face of its owner. Amar.

I stand, looking around the car and counting heads. It seems everyone has made it and then some. I count two extra people. One of them belongs to a girl with blond hair that is falling out of a bun. If my heart wasn't already threatening to burst out of my chest I think it might have done so. Her name hangs on my lips. And that's when I hear the sound of gunfire.

I jump in my own skin, surprised by the sound. The windows break and glass sprays everywhere. I reach for the weapon Amar gave me and turn in the direction of the incoming assault. It is coming from the buildings as we pass. There is no way I can be effective with the little training I've had and the inadequate size of the gun in my hands.

There is another explosion of gunfire as we ride close to another building.

"Everybody down!" I hear Amar's command.

In the blink of an eye my face presses against the train floor. My head turns this way and that, trying to see if anyone was hit. I feel a sharp pain in my chest.

"Tobias, wake up!"

I ignore the voice, instead continuing my self assessment.

"Tobias, you need to wake up!"

I see black. There is no longer the sound of a train running on tracks. I hear no gunfire. I can't hear Amar either. The only thing I hear is that voice telling me to wake up. That familiar voice. Her voice. I need to wake up.


	30. The Grind

**Tris**

I lower my gun, aiming it at the ground. There is a slight hesitation before Meg does the same. For now at least, I have no choice but to trust her.

"They'll break through any minute now," she says, referring to the gunned men in the hallway.

"How long before your backup arrives?"

"Don't you mean _our_ backup? We're on the same side." She ignores my arched eyebrow. "They were stationed a few minutes away. Hopefully they'll take out the renegades before they come through that door."

My gaze shifts to glance at Tobias' monitor. His vitals appear to be constant; no change.

I don't know what to do. My mind is coming up black. There really isn't anything Meg nor I can do until backup arrives, not unless we plan on jumping several stories out the window. I promised Tobias no more reckless stunts. Plus that would still result in leaving him behind and that is something that cannot happen. Looking back at Meg, more than ever I wish Christina were here. Suddenly the thought strikes me of how alone I feel without my friends and Tobias to either back me up or to contradict me.

For the first time since completing Dauntless initiation, I think that this is what it feels like to choke in the heat of the action. I don't like the feeling of helplessness and indecision. More than ever I feel the weight of Tobias' absence.

Gently I rest my hand over his, my fingers curling around his wrist. I can feel his pulse against my index finger. Although it is faint, his heart beats steadily. Tobias has been the one steady factor in my life since the day I chose to joint Dauntless. I try to imagine what he would be doing if he were conscious right now. What would he be thinking? What would he say?

My gaze slides to Meg, her back to me as she prepares for the door to be breaches. Would Tobias trust her? Perhaps I am just paranoid, I tell myself. But one can never be too careful, at least not someone who;s been through what I have. In my mind I play over the conversation with Meg in my head, pretending I am Tobias instead.

I squint my eyes, focusing on each and every detail.

Barely a few seconds pass when my eyes pop open with a realization. My eyes quickly scan the room. When I don't find what I am looking for my right hand tightens around the gun.

"Meg, how did you contact our backup team?"

Meg whirls around, bringing her gun up to aim, but she's too slow. I already have my own gun in position and fire, the bullet hitting her in the right shoulder, preventing her from reacting quick. The force of the shot sends her backward, landing on her back.

I leave the bed and go to Meg, pressing the sole of my shoe on her chest, pining her down.

"You won't make it out of here," she says through gritted teeth. "We have you surrounded."

I shake my head. I'll never understand why people continue to underestimate me. But she's right. The only clear way out is through the window and that isn't plausible at the moment. So that mean we'll have to leave through the door, only I haven't figured out how to do that yet. Until then, my only hope is that Christina returns packing some serious ammunition. But after everything, can I really take lives so quickly?

There is movement in the corner of my eye and I focus to see Meg tightening her grip on her gun.

"Drop it! Nice and slow to the ground."

Meg's eyes widen at my shout. With a hiss of pain she places the gun on the floor. With my foot I kick it; the metal makes a grinding sound along the floor but I don't dare take my eyes off of her.

"You're going to get up on the count of three. One. Two. Meg sweeps my leg out causing me to lose balance but I recover enough to take a knee instead of landing on my back. I no longer have my gun aimed on her and it's long enough for Meg to feel comfortable that she moves, standing above me. It's like everything is moving in slow motion as Meg lifts her foot off the ground again, this time preparing to kick the gun free from my hand.

"Don't move! If you move a muscle, I swear the next bullet will go straight into your heart."

My body freezes at the distinctly familiar male voice behind me. I'm in enough shock that I can't bring myself to turn around and see if it's true. After all this time, he can't possibly be awake.

There is a long silence. All I can do is watch Meg stare straight ahead whilst I remain kneeling on the floor. My heart is thudding so hard and loud in my chest that I no longer hear the renegades in the hallway. I let out one last exhale before I slowly come to stand, re-positioning my gun so that it is aimed at Meg's chest. I take two shaky steps back, my veins overloading on adrenaline. And then I turn to see him standing in front of the bed. Tobias. My Tobias, awake and standing, looking as perfect as the day I first met him.

"Tobias."

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a smile.

I turn to Meg again, this time moving behind her and using the butt of my gun, ignoring her protests, and bringing it to the back of her head before watching her body drop to the ground. I look up to Tobias standing there and smile as he says my name.


	31. Clearing the fog

**Tobias**

I feel light and heavy at the same time. It's as if I am not bearing my own weight but there is something pushing against my chest, making it exceptionally uncomfortable to breathe. My head feels foggy and my eyes are stuck shut. I almost don't want to bother opening them; it may just be easier to fall asleep again. No! There is a reason I woke up, only I can't recall what that reason is.

There is a loud _pop_ suddenly; the sound reverberates though my body. My entire body is aware now. I can feel my backside is cradled by something soft, a mattress of some sort. I open my eyes, the effort to pry my eyelids apart indicates that I've been sleeping for sometime. I'm staring at a white ceiling. Turning my head to the right, I see a collection of medical equipment. Following the wires, I realize that I am hooked up to the machines. The more I try to think back, the more my head hurts; the pressure radiating from the frontal to the temporal lobes. I can't recall how I got here or why I'm in need of treatment in the first place.

I try and sit up, the effort to do so is taxing and causes a tightness in my chest. Although there is nothing holding me down, my body feels leaden. My legs are dead weight and my arms tingle as I try to push off the bed.

There are muffled sounds, maybe voices, coming from my left but the pressure in my head is now accompanied by continuous ringing. I have a strong sense of immanent danger, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end and my ears become hot.

Finally, pressing my palms against the bed, I am able to push myself to sit upright. I hear the muffled sounds again, this time more urgent. There is something distinctly familiar about on of the voices. I wrench my head, turning to the left to see two figures, both women, one standing over the other. The one standing has short blond hair, her back to me, whilst the other is crouching on the floor, clutching her arm and wearing scrubs. The blond one speaks; her voice sends off recognition in me, causing my heart to race.

The woman on the floor places something black on the floor; I am transfixed by it as it slides along the flooring with a metallic grind. A _thud_ brings me out of the trance and it seems that the two figures have changed positions—the figure that was previously standing is now kneeling on the floor whilst the unfamiliar woman is standing, clutching her arm.

I shake my head to clear the fogginess away. I know I should aid the kneeling girl even though the stranger is the one that appears to be wounded and unarmed. I can't shake the feeling. I just don't know what I could do to help.

My gaze drops to the black object on the floor close to me. I focus on it and realize it is a weapon—particularly a gun. iI can use one of these/i, I think. But my legs refuse to budge so I resort to lifting them up one at a time and placing my bare feet on the cold linoleum. My footing is wobbly at best but it will have to do for now. Neither figure notices me so I crouch down to pick up the gun. It feels like pins and needles are pricking me all over my legs as I bear the entirety of my weight. I think it will take all the energy I have left to push myself up. I turn the gun over in my hands. Looking up at the woman in the scrubs. I notice that she is bleeding from the arm she clutched to her body and that the wound is from a gunshot. I start as she shifts her weight, preparing to make a move. Energy courses through my veins and I stand, without thinking and bring the gun up and aim.

"Don't move! If you move a muscle, I swear the next bullet will go straight into your heart."

My voice is hoarse from disuse but what surprises me is the cruelty of my words.

The woman in the scrubs stiffens. There appears to be no doubt in her mind that I will follow through with my threat. But I'm not concerned with that. My gaze shifts ever so slightly to see the blond figure stand and slowly turn to face me. Her expression is of awe and shock. I'm more distracted by what effect seeing her has on me. I would never forget that face—her face, ever. Tris.

And then she says my name and it's like the world has melted away.

The corner of my mouth tugs into a smile. I'm glad to see she's alright, present circumstances not withstanding.

My gaze lingers on her face for a moment longer before it slides back to the woman I don't recognize. Tris moves behind the woman and brings the handle of her gun to the woman's head, effectively knocking her unconscious. I watch her body fall to the floor.

"Tris, you didn't have to do that. She wasn't going anywhere."

The smile melts from her face as the corners of her mouth pull into a frown.

The pressure in my head is becoming unbearable and I sink against the bed. In an instant I feel Tris' hand against my arm, steadying me. When I turn to look at her, I see her biting her bottom lip. I reach out to touch them; the gesture had always been one of my favorites.

Still holding the gun in one hand, I use the other to bring the heel of my hand and press it against my forehead. That seems to help the pain to subside. I look up at Tris. Her hair is shorter than I remember. I reach out a touch a few strands. I find it so hard to recall that last thing that happened to me before I woke up in this room. Then suddenly a thought pops into my mind.

"Where is everyone?

"That's exactly what I'd like to know. Listen, we're in a bit of a bind right now. I need to know if you feel confident enough that we can take on the men outside the door."

My gaze slides to the closed door and back. Focusing, I hear commotion and see holes from bullets being sprayed into the room. "Is it the Erudite?" I ask.

Tris' eyebrows draw together. She is silent for longer than I hope. And then she says, "What's the last thing you remember?"

I press both hands against the sides of my head, the cold steel of the gun is refreshing against my temple. I think hard, trying to clear the fog. "We were riding the train. Some of the Dauntless deflected and were helping us escape, you'd only just arrived with your mother when Amar was trying to secure our passage and we were under attack."

Her eyes go wide. "Tobias. Amar wasn't there that day."

"Yes he was. He—"

"How many fears do you have?"

"Fears? What do you mean?"

There is a loud thud and the door bursts open. Everything else seems insignificant as the impending doom sets in.


	32. Count on you

**Tris**

The door is open.

Immediately I cease all movement, my eyes gaping at the open rectangle. There is nothing that can be done other than to await whatever steps through the door.

I expect a rush of uniformed men but nothing happens. Everything slows. The space is silent enough that I can hear the blood flowing through my veins.

I dare to glance over at Tobias. His eyes are wide. He's different. The doctors warned me that he might experience some memory loss but I find it hard to believe that he could forget about his fears, about what significance they stood for. I want to think more about how he incorrectly recalled Amar being present for the Euridite uprising but then I hear the sounds of more gunshots and shouting, turning my attention back to the door.

Nothing is coming into the room. It seems that whatever is going on is taking place in the hallway. Suddenly a body falls to the ground in front of the open doorway. Someone has taken out one of the renegades. Could someone be helping us? I wonder if Meg really was speaking the truth, even a portion of it.

I shift closer to Tobias. The gun remains in his hand at his side. I've never seen him freeze like this. His training is so ingrained that even with his gap in memory, at least his weapons training should be instinctual. We must be prepared for what will come through the door. With my free hand I push his arm up so that he points the gun in front of himself, aiming at the doorway.

The sounds in the hallway cease again.

I feels like an eternity has passed and then there is the sound of footsteps. First one pair and then more.

My hand tightens around the handle of the gun, my finger resting on the trigger.

"Don't shoot!" says a voice all too familiar that I almost cry out her name in relief. Christina appears in the open doorway with a bulletproof vest on and a pistol in hand. Both of her arms are up at either side of her face. I want to run and embrace her but I stop myself.

Stealing at glance at Tobias I see his gaze shift from me then to Christina. There is no recognition in his gaze.

"Chris." I finally say. "Is it you?" I think back to Meg's story and to the clone of Amar. If her claim is true than Christina might not be Christina after all.

"It's me," she replies. "George! They're okay." She looks back, toward the direction she appeared from and an instant later, George appears at her side, his rifle in one hand.

George quickly glances at Meg's unconscious body on the floor between us. "We thought we were too late," he says as his gaze passes over me. "Tobias, you're awake!"

"Do I know you?" says Tobias.

Christina's eyebrows draw together as she analyzes Tobias.

I start. No one can know that Tobias isn't himself, at least not until I know that we are truly among friends. "How do we know you guys are the real you?" I snap, the bite in my question enough to turn both of their attentions on me.

"George stopped me on my way here. Apparently there is a group of radicals that previously belonged to the Bureau. They were a experimental division of the Bureau that was shut down after conducting unethical experiments on the Divergents from the various cities."

"As if creating and monitoring a society without their knowledge isn't unethical," I say.

George frowns. "I suppose even the Bureau has lines that they don't want to cross. The point is that the division has resurfaced, this time separate from the Bureau. After the dismantling of the Chicago experiment, it appears that they have taken up their old practices again in favor of a new goal."

"And that goal is?" I ask.

"Matthew isn't sure yet. We suspect a mole in the Bureau. It's the only way they could get any information on our people. The Bureau has been on lock down since we identified the threat. We don't even know where they're held up or how they have been able to operate unnoticed. All we know is that they've been a step ahead of us. It was your brother who insisted having eyes on you at all times. We were alerting when a man appearing as Amar entered the hospital. He's been gone since the lock down. I knew there was no way that he would reappear without contacting me first. I demanded to be on the response team."

I glance once more at Tobias; he looks bewildered.

I take a deep story seems plausible enough. But I can't be sure about anything right now. I shake my head.

"You still haven't convinced me that you are who you say you are."

"Tris, it's me," says Christina. There is a mischievous glint in her eyes "I've got you some clothes, although I think you're in need of more than a wardrobe change at the moment."

"When you put it like that...but still I need to be sure. Tell me something that Christina and I would both know." Asking her where we first met won't be useful; such information could be easily tortured from her. I have to ask something obscure, something that even Christina won't realize she knows until I ask it of her. "What was the first meal we ever shared as initiates of Dauntless.?"

Christina's eyebrows draw together. Her gave shifts from me as I watch her recall. All along my gun has remained raised and at the ready. Her eyes lock with mine. "Hamburgers, you'd never had a hamburger before then."

I smile and lower the gun, letting it drop to my side. But Christina's gaze has shifted to Tobias who still has his gun aimed at her. Gently I place my hand over his. "It's alright," I whisper.

"Who are these people?" he asks me under his breath.

"I'll explain when we're away from here. Do you trust me?" He turns his head to look at me, his eyes searching my face, taking in my hair and my clothing.

After what feels like an eternity he nods and his arm lowers to his side.

Taking Tobias' hand I lead him over to Christina who embraces me. I don't let go of his hand as she holds me.

"Don't make me regret this," I say to Christina. "You better be you."

She laughs. "Trust me, I know not to get on your bad side."

"I don't have a bad side."

"Tell that to Jeanine and whoever that is on the floor."

"Very funny."


	33. Ripples

**Tobias**

By now I've discerned that we were held up in a hospital, although it's deserted for the most part. I hear the other talking to Tris. They told her that the building was evacuated. None of this makes sense. Best I can tell is that these people surrounding us are each from different factions. How can this be?

The hospital bracelet on my wrist indicates that I was the one admitted, but how long have I been out and what injuries led me to be there? I haven't had the moment to ask Tris but something else cautions me in asking my questions. I can't help but feel like she's disappointed in me, as if there's something I've done or that I'm not doing but she expects of me. She looks different too and acts different; not in a bad way just more 'Tris' than I remember. The more I try to think about it the more my head pounds.

"It's about time you woke up, Four," says the little one with the dark hair. I remember Tris calling her Christina.

Tris squeezes my hand, the same one she's been holding since we left the room. I look around and then I realize that she is speaking to me. Four? I don't recognize the name but I respond.

"How long was I out?"

Her companion named George directs us into a truck with an emblem reading iThe Bureau/i on the door. I help Tris inside.

"Since the bombing at the Hancock building. That makes it about two months."

Two months. Bombing at the Hancock building. Why does none of this seem familiar to me? Using my hand, I haul myself into the back seat of the truck next to Tris. I feel a sharp pain on the side of my chest, coming from my lungs.

Immediately Tris turns my face to hers and I'm staring into her familiar blue eyes. A memory comes to mind of the two of us tangled together in a dorm room in Abnegation, preparing to take the next step. Although, it doesn't feel so much like a memory now but a dream, a long distorted dream.

Tris leans her forehead to mine. "Breathe," she says, her voice so low. She gently places her hand over the spot when my lung hurts. "You were there at the bombing." This is where a piece of debris entered and collapsed your lung. Do you remember any of that?"

I shake my head and watch as Tris' face goes slack. There is that sense of disappointment from her again.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

She shakes her head. "Don't be. You and me, we have a lot to talk about. Right now, I'm just happy to have you next to me."

"Me too."

I'm surprised when she kisses me, not because I'm a prude but because of the others in the front of the truck cab.

I hear the sound of a girlish giggle and start to see Christina staring at us. She rolls her eyes and turns around to face the front of the truck.

"I told you, George, give 'em a few minutes and they'll be all over each other the first chance they get."

I see no humor in George's expression through the rear view mirror. I recall him mentioning Amar earlier to Tris. I wonder how he must know him. He carries himself like a member of Dauntless but so does Christina, although her mouth has no censor like a Candor. My head is spinning and all I want to do is take refuge in Tris' arms.

* * *

"You're telling me that the factions have been dismantled for months and that we were living in some experiment run by the so called Bureau that we have aligned ourselves with?" I shake my head in disbelief at what Tris has spent the last hour explaining to me. But that's not the hardest part to believe. She told me that on my Choosing Day I let my blood drip on the coals, becoming a Dauntless initiate and later end up training new initiates such as Tris.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you."

We're sitting in one of the offices in the Bureau. After debriefing with a the leader named Matthew, the others left Tris and myself alone so that we could be 'reacquainted'.

My mind threatens to explode with the notion that I made the decision to leave Abnegation and that Tris and I hadn't met until she too had left her family behind.

I shake my head. "I can't believe I threw knives at you."

"You're still hung up on that, huh?"

"I would never hurt you."

"You were doing it to protect me. Like you always do."

"And I always will. Even broken like this."

"You aren't broken." Her hand comes up to rest on my cheek. Her blue eyes study my face. "We just need time. Time to get your memories back."

"What if they don't come back?"

"Then we'll move forward, the way we do, the way we have with everything that has come to pass before."

"One thing remains constant though, from my dream world and this one."

"And what's that?"

"You. You are my rock, the tether that holds me to my own sanity."

"As you are mine."

I kiss her then, fiercely and passionately. She told me that we had taken the next step in our house just outside the city, only I can't remember it. I want to remember though, even if it kills me.


	34. Restless

**Tris**

"Have I ever mentioned how seriously impatient you are?"

I stop pacing and send Christina a deadly glare from across the room.

"So, apparently I have."

She's sitting cross-legged on top of a desk in one of the Bureau offices. Ignoring her, I continue pacing.

Matthew insisted having Tobias checked out by his own doctors. I wasn't allowed in. But what adds to my irritation is the fact that I still haven't spoken to Matthew directly. All of his directions have been handed down from one person or another. I'm beginning to get the sense that he is avoiding me.

My gaze passes over Christina as I turn around to continue pacing to the opposite wall. Suddenly she's holding an apple in her hands, tossing it up into the air and catching it. I stomp my feet harder.

"Tris..."

I stop. "I don't understand why they wouldn't let me in the room with him. I barely left his side for weeks."

She stops tossing the apple, her legs uncrossing before she jumps off the desk. In an instant she is standing before me, her arms going around me.

I want to tell her that she's smothering me but suddenly I melt into her embrace and sob against her shoulder.

"It's okay, it's okay," she soothes.

"It's not."

Her hand, in concentric circles rubs my back, the gesture painfully reminds me of my mother.

"We thought it was all over when you reset the Bureau. At the time none of us knew what other enemies the Bureau had or how they would see to use you to their advantage."

I shake my head.

"I don't care about that," I say as I peel my head from her shoulder.

Her brows furrow.

I shake my head again. "It's just that I thought we were finally in a good place. I suppose it was a grand delusion that I allowed myself to believe but then the bombing in the Hancock building and the coma and now this."

"I don't understand," says Christina. "What's going on?"

Wiping the tears from my face a little too roughly, I sigh. "I shouldn't even say it out loud."

Christina's hand lands on my shoulder. "You can trust me, Tris."

"It's not that. I know I can trust you. I just feel that if I say it out loud it really will be true."

Her eyes peer at me so expectantly that her gaze threatens to bore holes into me.

I turn away from her, staring at an image in the room, something abstract that my mind can't even process with the state my emotions are in.

"Something's wrong with Tobias," I finally breathe.

"What's wrong?"

"He's not the same. Well he is and he isn't. He is the same person just he doesn't remember being that person, the Abnegation boy turned Dauntless trainer that joined up with the factionless to save the city. He lived an entirely different life while he slept. In his dream world he never left Abnegation. Neither did I. In that world, we never had to kill our own friends, my parents didn't die."

I turn back to see Christina nodding.

"I see." She purses her lips. "You wish that his dream was a reality, don't you?"

I'm silent. Until she said those words, I hadn't realized that that was exactly what I am feeling. Regret. Regret that my one choice to leave Abnegation changed the lives of everyone I knew. But it wasn't just my choice. It was Tobias' too. A part of me wonders of all things, why had he dreamed an entire life in Abnegation? Were there things that his subconscious wished to be different?

Christina reaches for my hands.

"You can't think like that. You're here, you're both here for a reason. And I don't mean here, in the Bureau, I mean alive and together. The things we each have gone through, it's all been for something. That's what I believe anyway because the alternative is just too depressing."

Tears flow from my eyes again, but at least I'm not sobbing.

"That's just it. I don't know if it has all been for something. When I learned that the city was an experiment being ran by people on the outside...that was easier for me to accept than this, to think that life is out to get me."

"It doesn't matter, Tris. You've proven that you can beat the odds and I have no doubt that you'll do it again. That's the faith I have in you."


	35. Admiration

**Tobias**

The man in the white lab coat and glasses leaves the room. He reminds me of the Erudite and I find it unsettling. I let out a deep breath once the door closes behind him.

Looking up at the ceiling I can't help but think how different the world is from what I remember now that I'm 'awake'. I'm not sure which version I prefer, a fact that I'm only honest with myself. My only solace is that at least in both worlds I am with Tris, although I have heard whispers that our relationship in this world hasn't been an easy one.

I catch the way people look at Tris when she walks by. I don't think she notices it—the awe in their expressions, the admiration. It's as if everybody else sees her the way I do.

At the thought of Tris, my heart races, but in a good way. I can't wait to rediscover her in this world, possibly the only thing about my lapse in memory that doesn't terrify me...then again.

There is a knock on the door and I start. I reach for my hip, but there is nothing there for my right hand to grasp. Shaking off the gesture, I stand alert. There is another knock on the door.

"Come in," I say, assuming Tris has come to collect me.

The door swings open to reveal a young dark-skinned man donning all black. Dauntless—my mind automatically thinks as it has so been trained, but then I remind myself that the factions have been disbanded. Habits die hard, as I've heard some say and it appears that for this stranger that the saying applies.

His eyes appraise me, looking at me then taking in the room, as if he is determining the best strategy for approach. I watch him back, trying to for myself to see if I can conjure up any memories including him. With no such luck, I simply wait for him to break the ice.

Finally, after a long stretched out silence he decides to do just that. "Matthew told me that an ex sub division of the Bureau has been going around cloning our people in order to use them as the faces of their movement. You certainly look like Four, but according to the others, you don't have Four's memories. Maybe you're just a defective clone. Maybe they weren't after Tris after all. I think this was all a ploy to destroy the evidence that they in fact screwed up."

I stand, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "That's an awful lot of speculation."

"I don't see you arguing the contrary. Then again, neither would Four."

More silence follows, further adding to the tension in the air between us.

"It appears we have reached an impasse," I finally say. "Since I've neither confirmed or denied in being the Four that you speak of, I think all that there is left to do is for you to tell me how we know one another."

His eyes are watchful, deciding whether or not I am who I claim to be. I know that there isn't anything I can do to persuade him. I can't even remember how we met. I shake my head. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, pulling his mouth into a smile. There is a dimple clearly visible on his cheek and smile lines, indicating that he has spent a considerable amount of time smiling.

"It all started the day you let your blood drip on the goals."

I was right. Dauntless.

He continues his story.

It takes me a few moments for me to realize that the young man standing opposite of me is Zeke. I don't have any memories of him but Tris has told me a lot about him. He is different from how she described; he is not currently exhibiting his nonchalant demeanor that Tris claimed he is known for. Can I blame him? Apparently he is the closest thing to a best friend I have, but seeing him now, I just can't picture it.

"Am I boring you, Four?"

I shake me head again. "Zeke, right?"

He nods.

"I'm going to be as frank as I possibly can right now. I know we're supposed to be friends and all but I honestly can't remember you. I don't want to give you the illusion that I am the same person you knew before the bombing, because I'm not. I remember a reality vastly different from this one, a reality in which I'm known by my given name but not really known at all, in which I remained in Abnegation. Whatever knowledge I have of this reality I have learned from Tris."

"So you remember nothing before the Hancock bombing?"

My arms cross over my chest. "No."

Zeke's reaches his hand up to rub the back of his neck. "That's rough man."

"Tell me about it."

His gaze is watchful once more. Exasperated I can't resist.

"What's that look for?"

Zeke shrugs. "For someone claiming to not remember who they are, you still act like you?"

My head tilts to the side. "I don't know what you mean."

He shakes his again, further frustrating me but I say nothing.

"There's just one thing I want to say, in case Tris forgot to mention it."

I meet him glare for glare.

"That day, the bombing..." Suddenly his expression changes, softens. He's no longer the hardened Dauntless soldier. He's just man, a young man. There is sorrow in his eyes. "I'm the reason you were hospitalized. You came back to get me out of the building. You saved me. I've wanted to thank you a thousand times since that day, so thank you Four. Without you, I wouldn't be with my Shauna."

Before I realize it his arms open wide and he comes at me, but it isn't an attack. His arms wrap around me in embrace. I stiffen at the contact. The derogatory term Stiff comes to mind. Even though I can't remember our friendship, I understand just how he feels. Slowly my arms raise to return his embrace.

When he pulls away he says, "I really needed to do this man, but I would appreciate it if you don't tell anyone. Can't let Shauna know how much of a softie I am." A small smile tugs at his mouth. "But in all seriousness, you are like a brother to me." Tears form in his eyes and I recall Tris told me that his younger brother died before we returned to Chicago. In fact he died here, in this very building.

My hand rests on his shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. "Don't worry about it."


	36. Anew

**Tris**

My arms snake around his waist. His body stiffens at the initial contact but then he melts into my embrace. It's like coming home, except we're still in the Bureau compound.

"What's this?"

"I'm not letting you out of my sight!" I say. _Is this how he feels about me?_

"Afraid someone will snatch me and make a clone?"

I glare at him. "Too soon."

"Well, what's the verdict, am I me?"

I nod into his chest. "Down to every scar. You're you."

He sighs. A part of me wonders if he doubted himself. Whatever it is, I'm glad he's relieved. One less thing to worry about.

"Can we go to our place?" he asks, pulling away from me slightly so that he can see my face.

Regrettably I shake me head. "Not yet. Our house isn't secure. Matthew's people are still being checked. Not to mention that I haven't been to see him myself yet. We'll have to stay here another night."

He says nothing. I wonder if at all, he wishes that he remained in his coma if only to continue his dream reality. If I were him, would I?

I pull from our embrace, but snatch his hand. "Come. There's a place I'd like to take you."

His dark blue eyes are on me. "I thought it wasn't secure to leave."

"We're not leaving, technically."

I lead him to a familiar part of the hotel dormitory, a place with less happier memories, but that isn't where I am taking him. I lead him to a door and stop there. Pointing down the hall, I say "Down there is where we stayed when we learned the truth about the city. We slept on separate cots." I turn back to the door in front of us. "Our last night before we reset the compound, we snuck away from everyone else and stayed in here." I push the door open and step inside.

It's how I remember it; sparse with furniture apart from the couch we had fallen asleep on after making out. The room is alive with that energy, our passion. I can feel it. I look over at Tobias, our fingers still entwined and wonder if he feels it at all.

I turn to face him.

His eyes search the room as if it could divulge him answers.

Gently, I place my hand on his face. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes. When they open again, his gaze meets my own. "It was you who brought me in here. You thanked me for accepting you for who you are and not thinking any less of you. I want...I need you to know that I still accept you. You may not remember, but I do. Please know that despite everything, I haven't lost faith in you, in us. We've been through so much and you've always been so patient with me. I have been known to be less than patient. But I am going to be patient now. I take you whatever way I can get you, memories or no memories."

He kisses me then, surprising me. I melt into his kiss, parting my lips to allow his tongue entrance. His hands are suddenly in my hair and I wrap my arms around his neck, tethering him to me. His mouth trails to my jaw then along my neck, whispering my name like a litany.

He stops, his forehead leaning against my chest. I feel his warm breath through the fabric of my shirt.

My hands are in his hair.

"What have I done to deserve you," he says and I abruptly stop fingering his hair.

My hands move to lift his face so that his eyes are level with mine. "You're you," I say.

"Thank you."

I crush my lips to his. It's been too long since I've felt this pull between us. I crave it and right now I'm giving in to it. Last time we were in this room, we almost but stopped. I've left nothing out in regards to us. Although he can't remember it, I told him about our first time and after. I was afraid that he would feel differently about such things, after living his dream world in Abnegation. But I relax as his hands shift to my lower back, pressing into his body. I can feel his desire against me.

I wonder if we should stop. Then I think that we need this. I need him. His mind may not remember but like I've said before, his body does, and right now, like this, it's as if nothing has changed.

My hands reach for the hem of his shirt, tugging it from his skin. He releases me just enough so that I can pull the offending fabric over his head. I toss it, not caring where it lands.

While I'm at it, I save him the trouble and remove my own top so that I remain in my bra and pants. I can't contain myself any longer and reach my hands to his muscled chest, careful to not touch his sensitive skin when the debris entered from the bombing and collapsed his lung. My hands slide down the length of his upper body and back up to his shoulders. I hear a moan escape deep from his belly.

He reaches out to the button of my pants, his hands noticeably shaking.

I snatch one hand and bring it to my lips, kissing it before placing it on my cheek. He kisses me, regaining his confidence. I distract him with my mouth, peppering kiss along his jaw as I reach back to unclasp my bra.

Taking that same hand from my cheek, I slide it down to my neck, his fingers graze my collar bone, continue to my breast, letting him cup one of them. His breath hitches. His dark blue eyes gaze into mine.

"Oh, Tobias," I say and then I kiss him. My body presses into him and his hand continues its inspection down my body, this time more steadily.

He's walking, pushing me backward to the couch. In an instant I'm laying there with Tobias above me. I kick my shoes off. He relieves me of my pants and I'm left in my underwear with him standing over me. He steps out of his shoes and before he can get to it, my fingers make quick work of his pants and his briefs. He joins me on the couch, his knee nudging my legs apart. His mouth possess mine whilst his fingers hook into the hem of my panties.

I realize I've stopped breathing and the soft fabric slides down my legs. He tosses them behind him.

That's it. There are no more barriers between us. Our gazes meet and then he shifts, sliding home inside of me.


	37. Pieces

**Tobias**

 _Tris is on a slab. Her body is limp; her chest no longer moving up and down. They've killed her. Jeanine and her corrupted Erudite faction. I smooth my hand over her blond hair. Tears are flowing from my face. I don't want to believe she's gone. I can't. This can't be it._

 _Someone coughs and I look up to see Peter. Traitor, I think. He's part of the reason she's dead. And there's Caleb too, Tris' brother. He let this happen, he let them kill her. I want to destroy them all._

 _Suddenly Tris gasps for air. I jump back. She can't be alive, can she? I saw the serum go into her body. But she is; she's breathing and she's alive. I crush myself to her._

I start, sitting up on the couch. My chest feels heaving. A nightmare, just a nightmare. But also a memory, maybe.

Turning to look behind me, I see Tris is undisturbed by my outburst.

It's night and the moonlight is coming in through the windows. The back of the couch keeps Tris in shade for the most part except for her hip, the little bit of moonlight highlighting the curves and edges of her naked body. I am naked too. I am also covered in a sheen of sweat. Reaching for my pants, I stand.

I need to move, to leave the room. I'm not fleeing from Tris. I just need some space.

That dream was so vivid, so real. I wipe my face, my hand glistens with sweat and tears. A memory. But it's only a snapshot; a moment in this complicated life I woke up to. iMy real life/i, I remind myself.

I should tell Tris that I've had a memory and I will, only after I've sorted through my own feelings about it and what the memory was about. _Tris. Dead._ But not dead. I sigh.

I move through the compound. Part of me hopes for more memories to come, part of me dreads it—to relive every moment, bit by bit.

I come to a large space with scaffolding against large sections of the walls. The moonlight creeps in through the glass parts of the ceiling. I recall someone mentioning reconstruction but I don't know the reason for it. Eyeing the scaffolding warily, I can't imagine climbing to the top, not with my fear of heights. I shake my head. An image of a ferris wheel comes to my mind but it's gone before I can see it more clearly. How was I ever Dauntless? I must have been desperate, but then again, I survived.

Despite the scaffolding, the open space seems to be just what I need. No memories stir here, so I must not recognize it.

I've been sitting in silence for several minutes before a chill creeps up my spin. I sense a set of eyes on me from the shadows. I look up to see a person in silhouette standing about fifty feet from me. It is male, broad shouldered and lean build. The figure is either bald or has short cropped hair. I don't immediately recognize him.

"I don't know if I'm not supposed to be here. There weren't any posted signs." I stand when the figure doesn't respond. Something isn't right.

Suddenly the figure steps forward and I open my stance and bend my knees, ready to attack.

The figure takes another step forward and steps into the light.

I know the face instantly but I can't put a name to it. Images flood my mind. I'm at the Pit with Zeke, a scrawny boy with similar features hangs all over him. Next a body comes hurling through the air to land in the net. It's Choosing Day. Zeke helps me pull the jumper from the net—it's that same boy but he's older now, less scrawny. The next image I'm with Tris; we've arrived at the Candor Headquarters. We're greeting fellow Dauntless. Zeke isn't here. But the boy is. He's got piercings and tattoos of his own and he's smiling at us. Tris mouths his name but I don't hear it. The image disappears and another arrives. A hospital room. Zeke is holding his mother and they're both crying. The boy is lying in the bed, his eyes are closed. I want to look away but I can't. A doctor comes in and pulls the plug.

I gasp.

My gaze lands on the figure before me. "Uriah."

He smiles. Uriah was always quick to smile.

"That's right, Four, it is me. And this is where the wall the blew up, sending me hurling in the air and I hit my head. It was all because you trusted the wrong people."


	38. Spidey senses

**Tris**

 _"I remember everything," he says to me and kisses my lips softly, then my jaw. He pulls back to look at my face._

 _I want to smile and to tell him that I'm happy for him but then it doesn't matter, I would have him any way as long as I could have him._

 _Tobias is staring at me, expectantly. I try to find the words to express just how I feel but they won't come._

 _His brows draw together; it's a look I know well. But suddenly the corners of his mouth pull down in a scowl._

 _Before I can reassure him, he snatches my throat in his hands. He is choking the air from me. I am immediately reminded of the time Jeanine controlled him in the sim and I try to find a way to snap him out of it but I can't draw any breath in._

 _"It's about time you died_ ," _he says._

 _I mouth his name weakly with my lips. His hands tighten and blackness swamps my vision._

I start, twitching awake. Why am I plague with such dreams? I chalk it up to the fact that I've had a trying several days, not wishing to analyze it further.

I shift on the couch, expecting to bump into Tobias' tall frame. But there's only empty air and the cool fabric on his side of the couch.

I bolt upright. I look out the windows; the sun has not yet risen. The couch is no longer warm. He's been gone a while. I know better after all we've been through. Something is wrong, I can feel it.

The air in the room is suddenly freezing and a chill has crept up my spine. And I'm still naked. As much as I want to think about the intimacy that Tobias' and I just shared, I can't ignore my instincts. It takes some quick searching in the moonlit room to find my clothes and to emerge from the room clothed. I place the gun Christina gave me earlier at my back in the waistband of my jeans instead of in the holster at my leg. For some reason I feel the need to conceal it.

I recall my Dauntless training, using my skills of stealth to navigate and search this section of the building and to no avail, I cannot locate Tobias. My only hope is that the division hasn't gotten their hands on him. If they did it would have happened right under my nose. I shake my head.

No. Tobias had to have walked out of the room on his own; I didn't find any of his clothes there.

I resolve to search the compound. I wish I had a flashlight handy but all I can do is rely on the natural light. It is just as well that I am entering the part of the compound with the glass roof. I'm not happy about being here. The memory of a bomb going off next to me comes to the forefront of my mind. I see a flash of Uriah behind my eyelids but blink it away.

I slow my steps after I almost walk into a dolly. The reconstruction is slow. But now I know why Matthew has been so busy. Too busy to see little old me, the girl who save Chicago and exposed the corruption of the Bureau.

"...because you trusted the wrong people."

I freeze at voice up ahead, ducking behind a pallet of cellophane wrapped material for the build. The voice is familiar but it doesn't belong to Tobias.

"How can you be here?"

I would know that voice anywhere. It's the voice that brought me back. Four. Tobias.

Whoever Tobias is talking to scoffs and then says, "You already know how."

I peer around my hiding spot, trying to locate them in the room. I'm at most fifty yards behind Tobias. His companion is in shadow and for the moment so am I.

I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my body. The blood rushing to my ears makes it harder to think as I chew over the mystery voice, trying to put a face to it. Tilting my head in their direction I listen for more of the conversation as I slowly and quietly draw the gun from the dip in my back.

"What I don't know is if you're the real one or the clone," says Tobias.

The safety is on and the act of switching it off would be like dropping a pin in the quietest of rooms. I'm almost worried they will hear me breathing or my heart pounding in my chest.

"It was always hard to get one passed you, Four. Did you test positive for Erudite?"

"Don't answer a question with a question."

But I am hung on when he said "Four". There is no doubt in my mind who the owner of the voice is now. There would be no mistaking it.

Uriah.

And I come to the horrible realization that everything has been building to this moment. Ever since I saw the security image of him. I should have known that it would come to this—having a face-to-face with Uriah.

I have to act. One way or another. I have to before something irrefutable happens.

I calm my breathing and slow my heart rate as much as possible. I can't screw this up.

In one breath I release the safety and point my gun at Uriah. Tobias hears me and turns, the movement is enough to give me a clear shot and I take it. The moonlight catches in the smoke coming out of the barrel of the gun. When it passes I see Uriah's silhouetted figure laying supine on the ground.


	39. Signs of life

**Tobias**

The sound of the bullet casing _pings_ as it bounces off the ground then rolls under the scaffolding. I watch it until it's out of sight. It all happened so fast.

Uriah's body hits the ground with a thud, snapping me out of whatever trance I was just in.

My gaze jumps from Uriah to Tris, standing across from me. She lowers the gun.

"What the hell, Tris?" I snap. She flinches at my words but I don't feel bad. What she did was rash and stupid.

I move to check on Uriah, I notice his eyes are closed. He's either unconscious or worse. Dead.

"He's just a clone," she says.

I look up at her. "We don't know that. We don't know anything." I feel for the carotid artery in his neck. My hands are unsteady and the adrenaline pumping through my own veins is making hard to tell if Uriah's heart is still pumping.

"It wasn't a killing shot."

I ignore her, concentrating on feeling for the artery. Ah! I can feel it. He's still alive.

Now that I know he is still alive, I check the wound at his shoulder, his right shoulder. Tris is correct. She didn't make a killing shot.

I tug my shirt over my head. I can feel Tris hovering.

"Prior! Don't just stand there, go get some help!"

She watches me, her expression inscrutable as I tear my shirt into strips. He gaze jumps from me to Uriah then back.

"I—I..."

Then she runs off. I'm hard on her, I know that. As I tie the strips of my shirt as I binding around Uriah's shoulder it dawns on me.

I remember. I remember it all. My life.

At the revelation, my head pounds. My head is a jumble of memories I just don't have the time to sort through now. All I can focus on is the present and that's making sure Uriah stays alive first and sorting out this clone business second. Maybe mending things with Tris third.

I bring a bloodied hand to my forehead.

I hope Tris comes back with help fast.

Blinking the pain in my head away, I look down at Uriah. "Stay with me, buddy. Stay with me."


	40. Bearer of sins

**Tris**

I have just enough sense to put the safety on the gun and stuff it at my back in the waistband of my jeans. I don't stop running until I find someone; two Bureau guards. When they run off in the direction I told them, I lean into the nearest wall.

 _What have I done?_

I bring my hand up to see it shaking. Cowardly, I let it drop out of my sight as if doing so would help me to forget what I did.

I had a problem with guns for so long. I've only just become comfortable wielding one again and now what? I'm trigger happy? At the sight of Uriah, something in me snapped.

And then Tobias said something that hit me at the core. We don't know whether or not this is the real Uriah or a clone. What if I just killed the real Uriah?

I've jumped into situations in the past but this—this is positively the fastest and wrong decision I've made. Had I been thinking clearly, I could have subdued Uriah, and Tobias and I could be questioning him together.

Tobias.

He hasn't looked at me like that in a long time. Not since I killed Jeanine. I don't like that look on his face; I don't like how it makes me feel about myself.

He called me Prior. He hasn't called me that since the beginning of Dauntless initiation. The sound of my last name from his lips still strikes something inside me, reminding me of my unsure future.

I suppose the future is always unsure. But for a while I could see it—I could see the two of us in our new house. I could see something beautiful developing between us. Even after the bomb put him in the coma, I could still see us. I saw what I feared and somehow it wasn't as scary as I'd imagined. I had hopes for when he woke up, hopes that we could return to our home and make a life together, surrounded by friends and family. And then when Tobias did wake with only the memories of an imagined life I could still picture it, a small hiccup but it was there—our future was there.

Now, after shooting our only sure link to what's been going on since the bombing in the pits our future is as hazy as ever.

Tobias is the only one who I can confess all my sins to. He's the only one not afraid to tell me when I'm wrong. I've come to learn that I need that—I need him. I can't lose him over this.

I was sure enough of my aim that I didn't hit anything vital. Tobias' training helped shape my marksman skills. But there is still a chance of Uriah bleeding out if help doesn't get to him in time. My actions have consequences.

I go still; the shaking has stopped. This whole time I've missed something vital.

 _"Uriah."_

Tobias had said his name. He remembered. I was too caught up in seeing Uriah as a threat to notice.

I have to face it. I have to face what I've done. I have to face _him_. Both of them.

I need to see Uriah live, not only to set my conscious clear but to get to the bottom of the radicals and their plot.

I need to make sure that Tobias and I are okay. We've come too far for it to end this way; not after all we have been through.

I peel myself away from the wall.

The run back seems shorter than when I fled.

I'm too late. The room is empty. No Tobias. No Uriah.

There is, however, a puddle of blood on the floor. Glancing up at the scaffolding, an vision of the explosion trespasses in my mind. I forgave Tobias so his involvement. I can only hope that he can forgive me in this.

Surprising myself, I find the infirmary quickly enough. At this late hour the infirmary should be quiet. Not anymore. I follow the commotion, which leads me through a hallway. I spy Tobias standing in front of a closed door.

He must hear my approach because he turns. His expression is inscrutable before turning back to look at the door.

"Your help came fast," he says without looking at me. "He's in surgery."

"I..." I swallow.

He whirls on me. "Do you have any idea what—"

"I know what I did was wrong. I shouldn't have acted so quickly."

His brows are knit together impossibly tight. "Tris."

I shake my head. "Don't say my name like that. I'm not a child. I know you have your memories back, maybe not how much but enough to recognize Uriah. Maybe you have enough to recall that I haven't been a child for a long time. I've made mistakes. I won't hide from them. But you've made mistakes too. whether you remember them or not. That's the point of all this—everything we've been through since leaving Dauntless, discovering that the city was an experiment. We're free to make our own choices, to make our own mistakes. Our lives are not determined by a single choice by drops of blood in a bowl—instead, our live are dependent on the various choices we are free to make. And if those choices turn out to be mistake, we learn from them. I understand that my action could have cost a person their life. It wouldn't be the first time. But now I see how much my choice effect the world around me."

His expression softens. Wordlessly, he draws me up into his arms.

"Are we okay?" I ask.

He sighs. "I'm frustrated as hell, but yeah, we're okay."

I close my eyes, melting into him; my safe place.

Leaning his chin on my forehead, he says, "I don't think you're a child. But sometimes, Tris, you're so smart, so strong that I feel inconsequential next to you. Then you go and do things that remind me just how inexperienced you can be. We both have our faults. A big part of what I have wanted for you is to realize that—to take a step back and see how what we do effects each other. I'm glad you see it know. If Uriah pulls through, we have a big opportunity to learn what's been going on. Who knows when we will get another one."


End file.
